Hiding in the Shadows
By Irene Dutch <sirenegold@yahoo.com>
Rating PG-13
Submitted January 2001.

________________

Content warning:  This story deals with sexual assault. A small amount of 
coarse language.

This story is a direct sequel to 'Beyond a Shadow of a Doubt'.  A
next generation story set in the same universe as 'Firestorm',
'Starfire and Sunstorm', 'Solar Eclipse' and 'Gale Force Winds', this
story deals with the aftermath of the vicious attack Marty Kent
suffered in 'Beyond a Shadow of a Doubt'.

Many thanks to my beta-readers, Wendy Richards, Laurie and Karen Ward.
A huge thank you to Julie, my archive editor. Finally, many thanks to
Zoom's message board readers for their unfailing support.

All standard disclaimers apply.

Hiding in the Shadows
By Irene Dutch
sirenegold@yahoo.com

***
Our story begins one month after the events in 'Beyond a Shadow of a Doubt.'
***

Bernie Klein struggled to focus on his paperwork.  He'd just get
started, and random thoughts would pop into his head.  Concerned
about his daughter, he couldn't stop thinking about how she was
coping with a difficult pregnancy.

Astrid wasn't enjoying being pregnant, and Sam didn't seem too
enamoured of the situation either.  They both desperately wanted to
be parents, but they had never anticipated that Astrid would have had
her normal routine completely disrupted by her pregnancy.  She was on
leave from work and would be until after the baby was born.  Dr.
Klein had advised her to keep her feet up as much as possible due to
the breakthrough bleeding that had been occurring intermittently
since she'd conceived.  If he hadn't known that everything was going
to turn out fine, Bernie would have been quite worried about his
little girl.

He didn't need to worry, however.  He still remembered vividly his
future granddaughter's visit to the past and all the things she'd
told him  - both on purpose and inadvertently.  She'd referred to her
parents in a completely casual and matter of fact way, and Dr. Klein
had never had the feeling that there had been anything untoward that
had happened to either of them.  He frowned, as he remembered how she
had never once referred to her grandmother, Caroline.  After he and
Caroline had been married, Bernie had been apprehensive about what
was in store for his wife.  He'd had reason to be.  He'd figured out
that she wouldn't survive until Lee arrived, but he'd never have
guessed that she would have died in childbirth when his daughter,
Astrid, had been born.

Bernie was also quite concerned about his friend, Jimmy Olsen.  He
grew quieter and quieter as Astrid's pregnancy progressed.  Jimmy
still missed Lee desperately after having fallen in love with her
during her trip to the past.  How must the man feel to know that his
godson and his honorary niece were about to become the parents of the
woman he loved?  Jimmy didn't talk about it to Bernie or to Lois and
Clark, but it was obviously weighing heavily on him.  There wasn't
much that any of them could say.  All they could do was be there for
him.

Bernie grimaced as his thoughts turned to another person whom he
found difficult to help.  Marty.  He shuddered as he remembered
examining her in the wake of the vicious attack on her.  Sam had
carried her up the stairs to her bedroom, and after he left, Bernie
had helped her ease her clothes off so he could examine her.

He had been her doctor - her whole family's doctor - for a long time,
so there was no discomfort involved on his part as she stripped.
She, however, had been clearly uncomfortable, clutching a sheet to
her chest, trying in vain to hide her injuries from him.  It had
taken him quite a few minutes of patient coaxing to get her to allow
him to examine her.  After, he had understood her shame.  He didn't
condone it - she had done nothing wrong - but he understood.  He
shuddered once more as he remembered his first sight of Marty's
bloodstained thighs.  Anger had burned deep within him, but he hadn't
let it show.  Somehow he had managed to keep a tight grip on his
emotions and had dealt with her in a cool, calm and collected manner.
But if he had had the animal who had done this in front of him, he
would not have been able to answer for his actions.

When Marty realised that he knew what had happened to her, she had
reached deep inside herself for strength.  He could only watch and
listen to her with admiration as her tears dried up and she regarded
her doctor, her uncle, with immense dignity.

"My parents can't know," she had said.

He'd remonstrated with her, told her that they needed to know, that
they would want to be there for her.

"No.  Mom could handle it, I think, but it would just about kill Dad.
You can't tell them," she'd said, answering his concerns.

Dr. Klein had continued to protest, but Marty had been adamant.  As
her doctor, he'd had no choice but to respect her wishes.  As far as
he knew, there were only three people who knew what had been done to
her - Paul Stride (once known as Paul Hunter), Marty and himself.

Physically, Marty had healed very quickly.  She'd been forced to use
make-up to simulate bruises that had disappeared long before they
should have.  Emotionally was another matter, however.  Dr. Klein
wondered if she ever would heal completely.

He sighed.  Everyone in the world had wounds that never went away.
Look at him.  He missed his wife, and he would continue to miss his
wife until the day he died.  For a moment, he wondered when that day
would come.  When Lee had travelled into the past, she'd left behind
a ninety-year-old version of him.  But when his day finally came,
would he be happy to die so that he could see his beloved Caroline
again?  Or would he feel as though his work was incomplete?  There
were so many questions that he wanted to discover the answers to.
Would he have enough time?  Or too much?

Dr. Klein sighed once more and reluctantly forced his thoughts back
to his paperwork.

***

"Shadow's healing fast," Ben said, trying to provoke some kind of
response from his friend.

"Good," Marty answered with no measurable amount of enthusiasm.

"No sign of infection..."  He ran his fingers lightly over the
incision in the dog's side, searching for hot spots that would
indicate a problem was brewing.

"Good," she answered, again.

Ben gently lifted the dog down from the examining table to set him at
the feet of his owner.  As he straightened up, he peered at Marty's
downcast face.  "You look better, too.  Most of your bruises are gone
except for a hint of yellow on the one cheekbone."

"Thanks."  Marty bent down and rubbed Shadow's silky, long ears.

Ben took a deep breath and blew it out slowly.  "Um, Marty?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you want to go out to dinner with me?  Not on a date.  I just
thought you might need someone to talk to."

Marty fastened Shadow's leash to his collar with a metallic snick.  "No."

"Okay," Ben said, hesitantly, "but if you change your mind..."

"I won't."

"Okay.  Uh, bring Shadow back next week, all right?"

"Yeah."  Marty and her dog slipped out of the examination room
without another word.  Ben could hear Marty talking to the
receptionist, setting up next week's appointment, but he stayed out
of sight.

Marty looked so much better, but it was obvious that she had a long
way to go before she was back to her old self.  That is, if she ever
was back to her old self.

Ben had once worked on an old cat that had been rescued by the local
Humane Society.  The poor animal had been half-starved.  That was bad
enough, but it had been the psychological aspect to her suffering
that had been the worst.  She had been tormented viciously and was in
such bad shape that the Society had been within a hair of euthanising
her.

After six months, she had filled out and was physically healthy, but
she had never been able to relax.  She didn't trust anyone and would
lash out viciously with her claws if anyone came too close to her.
She had been completely untrustworthy to the end of her days.

Ben would have felt better about Marty's prospects for emotional
recovery if she had been able to lash out like the cat had.  She had
to have an incredible amount of anger about what had happened, but he
feared that she had turned it inside which wasn't healthy.  She
showed all the signs of a deep depression.

Ben knew that her parents came to visit every weekend, and that her
siblings were frequent visitors, too.  She was lucky that her family
members were such good friends of Superman and his children.  They
were able to hitch rides to visit her on a very regular basis.  Of
course, if there had been no relationship between the Kents and
Superman's family, then this whole fiasco might not have happened.
Hard to say.

Paul Stride had turned out to be completely crazy.  He had
disintegrated emotionally and rationally, and had been found unfit to
stand trial.  Thankfully, the doctors had found that he was a menace
to society, and he had been incarcerated in a mental institution.
  From everything that Ben had learned, there was little to no chance
that Stride would ever be able to walk as a free man once more.

***
One week later
***

Once again, Ben faced Marty across the examining table.  His fingers
were gentle on Shadow's body as he carefully examined the dog.

"So, how about biking?" he asked, carefully not looking at her.
"We'd have fun."

"No.  Thank you."

"A movie?"

"No."

"Okay.  Let me know if you change your mind."

"I won't," she said, softly and yet, unmistakably, firmly.

***
The next week
***

"Horseback riding?"

"No."

"A hike in the woods?"

"No."

"Okay.  If there's something else you'd rather do..."

"No.  But thanks for asking."

***
The next week
***

"Golfing?"

"No."

"Catch a baseball game?"

"No."

"Bungee jumping?"

"Bungee jumping?" she repeated, incredulously.

Ben was heartened by the fact that Marty had actually looked at him
for a second before looking down at Shadow once more.

"Hey, I'm getting desperate here," he said with a self-deprecating
grin.  "You said 'no' to everything else I could think of."

Marty looked at him once more.  She looked so sad that Ben wanted
nothing more than to take her in his arms and tell her that
everything would be okay, but he knew better than to try.

"Ben, what are you looking for from me?  What do you want?"

"I'm your friend, Marty.  I've been your friend for a very long time.
I want to be there for you.  That's all."

She nodded and looked down at the floor once more.  "Good because I
don't want romance."

"I'm not offering it."  Ben placed Shadow at her feet.

"Good."  She completed the familiar examining room ritual by bending
down to fasten Shadow's leash onto his collar.

"So...?"  Ben waited with his heart in his mouth.  Dealing with his
wounded friend was every bit as difficult and required as much tact
and patience as dealing with an injured animal.

She faced him directly with a hint of a smile on her face.  It was
the first time since the attack that he had seen anything other than
the very sad and introspective mask that she wore nowadays.  "I don't
want to go bungee-jumping."

"We don't have to.  I just wanted to catch your attention.  We could
go skydiving instead," he offered with a sly grin.

Marty giggled weakly and shook her head.  It wasn't much of a laugh -
it sounded more like a cough than anything - but it was a real laugh
even so.  Ben was pleased.

"Oh, no skydiving, then," he said.  "What do you have in mind?  Maybe
a picnic?"

"NO!" she exclaimed quickly, her expression shutting down once more.
"Not a... not a picnic.  Coffee.  You could come over for coffee if
you want.  I... I don't want to go out, if that's okay with you."

"Fine," he was quick to assure her.  "We don't have to go out.  I'll
come over tonight, okay?  Around 7?"

"Yeah."  Her eyes dropped away from his face again.  "That's fine.
I'll see you then."

And then Marty and Shadow were gone.  Ben stared at the closed door
of the examining room, amazed that she had finally given in and said
'yes' to him.  He was so grateful.  It was a step in the right
direction.

***

Marty put her truck into park and switched off the motor.  From her
vantage point behind the steering wheel, she surveyed the farm.
Thanks to her Dad, the place didn't look too neglected.  Her sister
and her brothers had tried to help, too, but Dad was the one who
really knew how to do chores on a farm.  It hadn't been fair for her
to let him do all the work for so long, but Marty hadn't been able to
bring herself to do too much.  Physically, she had healed quite
quickly, but it had taken her a good month before she could bring
herself to leave the house.  She had only taken the work back from
her dad last week.

If it hadn't been for Ben opening up his new office and telling her
that he could better look after Shadow there, she'd probably still be
huddled in her bedroom in a heap.  For a long moment, she was full of
resentment at having been forced out of her safe sanctuary.  The
feeling wore off, though.  After all, it wasn't fair to expect other
people to cater to her fears.  Plus, she knew that she had to start
facing the world once again.

As if sensing that he'd been in her thoughts, Shadow nuzzled her arm
from his position beside her on the front seat of the truck.  She was
quick to respond, caressing the black, furry, upturned face, and
gazing into his wise, golden-brown eyes.

He had recovered very well.  Pretty good for a dog that no one
thought would survive.  Oh, he did a lot more sleeping than he used
to, and he put his nose in the air when one of the barn cats
sauntered by.  It was as if Shadow were saying, 'I'm going to ignore
your existence as you're not worthy of being chased.'  She was sure
his attitude would change when he had more energy and was ready to
resume tormenting the cats once again.

He needed a bit of help from her from time to time.  He had trouble
still with stairs, although he had nearly managed to make it to the
second floor last night.  She still lifted him in and out of the
truck, and she still lifted him onto and off her bed.

Marty had never let Shadow share her bed before, but she had needed
him in the past month and a half.  He snuggled up close to her every
night as she drifted off to sleep.  Marty slept better with the
weight of him pressed up against her legs although he did wake her
from time to time.  A couple of times, she'd been jarred out of sleep
by having a cold, wet nose stuck in her ear.  He frequently decided
to express his affection by licking her face and any other parts of
her that were exposed to the air.  And once she had awoken, not
knowing what had aroused her, only to shift a bit and come face to
muzzle with Shadow as he gazed adoringly at her from a distance of
only four inches away.  It had been a bit disconcerting at three in
the morning.

The one time she had forced herself to banish him from her bed, she
had been jolted awake by a horrible nightmare.  Not only that, she
had actually woke up clawing her way through the ceiling above her
bed.  Marty hadn't told her Mom and Dad, instead fixing the hole
before their next visit.  She hadn't fooled them, though.  They had
gazed up at the rough patch in the plaster.  Dad's nostrils had
twitched at the sour smell of new paint even though she had aired the
room out thoroughly.  But neither of them had said anything.  She
knew that they understood.  She also knew that they worried.

Her parents had been great.  They'd both been solid rocks that she
could lean on.  Neither one of them had pressured her to say more
than she wanted, but they made it clear that she had their unwavering
support.  Her mom had questioned her a couple of times about what had
been done to her, but she'd been very quick to drop the subject when
Marty had made it clear that she didn't want to talk about it.

Marty forced herself to open the driver's door and get out of the
truck.  She moved quickly, forestalling Shadow's attempt to get out
past her.  Instead, she caught him in her arms and gently lifted him
down.  He looked a bit disgruntled as she put him down on the ground.
This constant lifting and carrying was obviously an affront to his
dignity that he didn't intend to suffer for too much longer.

Marty entered her house by its back door, her canine companion
following close behind her.  She never went in the front door anymore
as it led directly into the living room.  The first time she'd been
in there after the attack had been a horrible experience - all the
pain and terror flooding back through her.  Since then, she'd made a
point of avoiding the room.

Marty gazed at the pile of dirty dishes in the sink as if seeing them
for the first time.  Her gaze roamed around the room, noting the
stained floor and the greasy stovetop.  She didn't want to bother
tidying up, but with Ben coming over tonight, she really should.

Sighing, she gathered her cleaning supplies together and started,
moving at a snail's pace to start, and then slowly gathering speed.
It took her about fifteen minutes to clean the whole house from top
to bottom - with the exception of the living room.  The bulk of the
time was spent waiting for the vacuum cleaner to keep up with her.

As she put the last of her cleaning supplies away, Marty couldn't
help but wonder what she was making such a fuss over.  Why had she
agreed to let Ben come over?  What had she been thinking?  It wasn't
as though she could bring herself to talk about any of it.  Her
parents, Vicky, Astrid, and her brothers had all tried to get her to
open up, but she just couldn't.  She didn't want them to know the
full scope of everything that had happened.

Uncle Bernie had phoned quite a few times.  A couple of times, he had
even arranged for Sam to drop him off for a few hours, but though
Marty knew that he was fully aware of all her injuries, she just
couldn't bring herself to say anything to him.  She was too ashamed.
Uncle Bernie had told her, and continued to tell her every time that
he called, that she had nothing to be ashamed of, but she did.

She had been a dupe.  She had been a fool.  She had thought that she
loved the man who had ended up being her torturer.  She had been
going to put herself and her family's secret into his hands of her
own free will.  How could she not blame herself for what he had done
to her when she had been under the influence of the Kryptonite?  She
was to blame, she told herself again.  It was her own fault.  If it
hadn't been for the Kryptonite, she would have been the one who had
betrayed her family's secret.  She'd put her parents in jeopardy.  It
was obvious; she couldn't be trusted.

***

"Another cup of coffee?"

"Thanks."  Ben held his cup up to Marty as she leaned over the table
with the pot.  He watched as she topped up his cup, refilled her own
and then put the pot back into the coffeemaker.

He had been tempted to leave as their conversation was still
struggling to get off the ground, but he was glad that he had forced
himself to stay.  She did look a little better even if getting her to
talk needed as much care and patience as pulling porcupine quills out
of a dog.  He had borne the brunt of the conversation, telling her
story after story about his studies.  He felt quite proud.  He had
got her to smile half-heartedly at least four times and had coaxed a
chuckle from her once.

"Do you want more pie?"

Ben groaned, dramatically.  "I don't think I can eat another bite."

Marty half-smiled.  "Thanks for bringing it with you.  It's delicious."

"It is good.  You know, everyone was so worried that the baking would
go downhill when Maisie retired, only to find out that Dora's an even
better baker than her grandma."

Marty sat down heavily, all expression on her face shutting down once
more.  "Maisie," she murmured softly, obviously lost in thought.  She
looked at the table for a long moment, tracing the pattern of the
tablecloth with her finger, before facing him and asking, "How is
Maisie?"

Ben sympathised with her discomfort.  The mention of Maisie had to
bring Marty face to face with thoughts of Paul Stride and the way
Maisie had rescued Marty from further torment.  He didn't let his
feelings show on his face, however, instead dealing with Marty's
question in as light-hearted a way as possible.  "Maisie's great!
Still going strong.  She gave Tom Hartford heck the other day for
speeding down Main Street.  Mom says that Maisie's lecture was
stiffer than anything that she, as Sheriff, would have said!"

Marty smiled, wryly.  "That does sound like Maisie.  I hope she never changes."

"Me, too."  Ben took a sip of coffee in an effort to mask his nerves
before asking Marty a very important question.  "Um, Marty?"

"Yes."

"You know it's Maisie's eightieth birthday next month."

"Uh huh."

"Dora and her mom are organizing a party on the twenty-third."

"Yeah."

"Would you... go with me?"

"As your date?" Marty asked, a note of panic in her voice.

"No." Ben smiled warmly at her.  "As my friend."

"I don't know..."

"Please?"

"No."

Ben sighed.  "I'll tell you what.  Take back that 'no,' and think
about it.  I won't pressure you.  It's not that formal.  We don't
have to let them know ahead of time whether you're coming or not.
Okay?  Please?"

Ben held his breath as Marty thought over his proposition.  He really
wanted her to get out and about to see other people.  It wasn't good
for her to be cooped up on her farm all the time, only visiting his
veterinary clinic because she had to.  He barely managed to restrain
himself from gasping with relief when she said, "All right.  I'll
think about it."

"Good."  Ben smiled warmly at her and leaned back only to just about
jump a foot out of his chair when a wet, black nose suddenly appeared
from under the tablecloth and applied itself to his hand.  "Whoa!
Hey, boy," he said, greeting Shadow.  "You just woke up and decided
to join the party, is that right?"

The dog inched forward until his whole head protruded from underneath
the cheery flowered tablecloth.  Tongue lolling out, he sat waiting
patiently for Ben to pet him.

Ben didn't disappoint Shadow.  He stroked the long, silky ears,
slightly tugging on them.  Shadow closed his eyes in ecstasy and
planted his chin on Ben's knee as Ben glided his fingers over the top
of the dog's head.  Ben looked across at Marty with a grin.  "He's a
sweetie, all right."

"Yes, he is," she replied, smiling tenderly at the dog.  It was the
first truly unguarded expression to cross her face, and it changed
her features enormously.  Ben's breath caught in his throat as
Marty's smile transformed her.  In the blink of an eye, she changed
from his buddy, his pal, just another familiar face, into a beautiful
and desirable woman.

Exerting steely control, Ben didn't let his new awareness of Marty
show.  Instead he scratched behind Shadow's ears.  "You know, most
dogs that I've treated can't stand me.  Especially the dogs like
Shadow who've had surgery and stitches and needles.  It's pretty nice
that he treats me like a good guy."

"He's a pretty good judge of character."  Marty's eyes dropped and
her happy smile faded away to nothing.

"What?  What is it?" Ben asked, worried.

"I... Nothing important..."

"You can tell me," he said, softly.

"It's just that..." Her eyes flicked up to his face and then back
down to the table.  "Shadow didn't like him."

"Him?"

"Yeah, you know - him."

"Oh.  Him.  Shadow didn't?"

"Yes."  Marty shuddered.  "I thought it was because he was jealous
that he wasn't getting enough attention."  She sighed.  "I wish I had
been paying more attention."

Ben nodded sympathetically, waiting for her to go on.  She didn't.
Even so, it was a pretty big breakthrough for her.  It was the first
time she had talked with him about Paul Stride since the attack had
happened.  He wasn't going to jeopardise things by pushing her for
more.  "I'm glad that Shadow likes me," was all that he said.

Marty half-smiled at him, wistfully.  "Me, too."  Her smile didn't
touch her eyes, however.  Looking in those eyes made Ben want to
weep.  He wanted to reach across the table to take her hand in his.
Instead, knowing better, he contented himself with caressing Shadow's
upturned head.

***

Bernie Klein found himself in a melancholy mood when he got home from
visiting his daughter and son-in-law.  Astrid had happily shown him
the nursery that was half-ready, and had displayed the stack of
knitting that she'd been given for the baby.  It had been a poignant
reminder of the preparations that he and Caroline had made so many
years ago when they'd been expecting Astrid.

The ache from missing Caroline was always with him, but it had faded
quite a bit over time.  It was only sometimes that it blossomed forth
into full-fledged pain once again.  It had done so tonight.

Bernie sighed as he picked up the framed photo of Caroline that
always sat on the night table beside his bed.  His fingers traced the
lines of her face.  All of a sudden, this one picture wasn't enough.
Pushing himself off the bed, he dragged a box from his bedroom closet
and sorted through the contents, finally unearthing a couple of photo
albums.  He sighed.  Such a happy time in his life, and he only had a
few pictures to show for it.

Turning pages in a photo album wasn't really enough, but it would
have to do.  Bernie's eyes misted over as he gazed at his long-past
wedding photos.  He and Caroline looked so happy.  Clark and Lois
looked so pleased for them, too.  Bernie smiled.  It wasn't every man
that could say that Superman had been his best man.  He shook his
head.  Except it wasn't Superman that he had asked to stand with him
at this most important moment in his life.  It was Clark - a real
person with real feelings.  And real problems, Bernie mused as he
remembered various things that had happened over the years.

He turned the page to see pictures of the wedding reception.  It had
been small.  They'd only had a few guests - Lois and Clark, a few
doctors and nurses from the hospital, a couple of scientists from
STAR labs.  It had been wonderful, though, intimate and cozy.

Fresh tears sprang to Bernie's eyes as he continued to turn pages in
the album.  Here they were when they had been expecting Astrid.
Caroline's stomach had expanded fast, putting her into maternity
clothes while she was still in her first trimester.

She'd been dismayed when her morning sickness had started.  "I
thought I was being so sympathetic with my patients.  I had no idea!"
she'd wailed in between bouts of nausea.  "I don't know why they
didn't hit me!  I told them to eat dry crackers.  Ha!  Like that
works!"

But even with the very uncomfortable first trimester complete with
nausea and fatigue, even in the last trimester when she couldn't
sleep and neither could he because the baby had played football with
his kidneys every night since Caroline couldn't relax unless she were
pressed up as close as she could get to his back - even with all
that, she'd been happy.  They'd both been happy, ecstatic, that they
were going to have a child.

Bernie had never shared with her his secret about that child.  He'd
never told her that they were having a daughter, and that their
daughter would someday have her own daughter.  He hadn't told her
about the relationship their daughter would have with Superman's son.
In a way he hadn't wanted to.  It was private.  It was his secret and
Lee's secret, and it was somehow important to keep it that way.

Also, it wasn't just his secret; it was Clark's, too.  He hadn't
asked Clark if he could tell Caroline about his secret identity; it
would have been presumptuous on his part.  Clark hadn't brought the
subject up either.  Bernie had the feeling, though, that if Caroline
had lived, she would have been told.  For one thing, Bernie would
have eventually brought the subject up himself with Clark.  He would
have insisted that she be told.  Things would have been too
difficult, otherwise.  He sighed.  She hadn't lived, though, had she?

He continued to turn the pages.  Here were photos of Astrid taken at
her christening.  He'd broken tradition.  Astrid had one godmother,
but two godfathers.  Bernie smiled as he gazed at the photo of Lois
holding Astrid with Jimmy and Clark flanking her.

What would he have done without his three best friends?  How would he
have survived?

Here were pictures of Astrid frolicking in a wading pool with Sam,
Jon and Marty.  And of Astrid wrapped in a giant beach towel on her
Uncle Jimmy's lap.  And of Astrid...  Bernie's eyes narrowed as
something jumped out at him from the photos.  Wait a second!  Why had
he never noticed this before?

He glanced at his bedside clock.  It wasn't that late.  He picked up
the phone and dialled a number from memory.

"Hi, it's me...  Do me a favour?  Meet me at the lab first thing in
the morning.  Bring Clark and Lois, too, if they're available, okay?
... Great.  Thanks.  See you tomorrow."

After removing a few photos, Bernie briskly put the photo albums
away.  His brain working away at this very interesting problem, he
completed his bedtime ritual automatically, thinking ahead as to what
test to do first.

***

"What are you saying, Bernie?" Clark asked.  He and Jimmy had arrived
at Bernie's office bright and early.  Unfortunately, Lois had had an
early morning meeting and couldn't join them.

"Look at these pictures!" Bernie Klein replied, thrusting two
separate photos under his two guests' noses.

"Yeah, that's me, and that's Clark," Jimmy said, looking puzzled.  "So?"

"So these pictures were taken about twenty-five years ago," Bernie
said, feeling as though that explained everything.

Clark and Jimmy looked at each other blankly before turning back to
their friend.  He sighed at the confused expressions on their faces.
He would have thought that Clark would get it at least.  The man was
a top-notch investigative reporter.  Jimmy, too, had a pretty
impressive reputation now.  Maybe they just couldn't see the little
details when it concerned their own lives!

"Jimmy, how old are you now?" Bernie asked, trying to not let his
exasperation show.

"Almost forty-seven."

"Exactly," Bernie answered.

"I don't get it," Clark said.

Bernie sighed.  Obviously he was going to have to spell this out
completely.  "Okay, guys.  Let me try this again.  Jimmy, how old
were you when this picture was taken?"

"I was about twenty-two or twenty-three.  Maybe twenty-four."

"Right.  And you're forty-six now.  Clark, look at this picture, and
look at Jimmy, and tell me what you see."

Clark's eyes moved from the photo in Bernie's hand to Jimmy's face
and back again.  His expression remained confused for a moment, until
Bernie could just about see the light dawn in Clark's eyes.

"Oh!" he exclaimed.  "I get it now!"

"Get what?" Jimmy asked, obviously getting a bit frustrated.

"You look exactly the same," Clark explained.  "Okay, the hair
style's a little different, but your face is exactly the same.  No
wrinkles, no signs of aging.  You still look twenty-two. Usually when
someone says 'you haven't changed a bit,' they don't really mean it,
but in your case, it's completely true.  You really haven't changed a
bit."

"It's not just Jimmy, Clark.  You haven't changed much either."
Bernie went back to his desk and picked up another photo.  "And
neither has Lois," he declared, brandishing it in triumph.  "I can
rationalize this situation with you, Clark.  I could theorize that it
has to do with your Kryptonian heritage.  And Jimmy, you got some of
Clark's life force during that whole 'Veda Doodsen' fiasco.  Okay, so
that makes sense.  But Lois - she's not Kryptonian, and, while you've
shared a lot with her, Clark, you've never shared your life force
with her, so I'm not sure what to think."  Bernie paused and took a
deep breath.  "I want to run some tests."

Jimmy and Clark looked at each other and grinned.

"Why did I know that was coming?" Clark asked with a chuckle.

"Me, too," Jimmy said, amused, too.

"I'm not that predictable, am I?" Bernie asked plaintively.

Jimmy and Clark looked at each other once again before turning to
face the doctor.  "Uh huh," they said in unison as they nodded their
heads.

Bernie sighed.  "We'll start with you, Jimmy.  Would you mind rolling
up..."  He blinked.  Jimmy's sleeve was already rolled up, and Jimmy
stood in front of him, proffering his bare arm.

"Where's a cup?" Clark asked, looking around the lab.  "I just know
that you want me to pee in a cup.  You always have in the past."

Jimmy cracked up.  A heartbeat later, Clark joined in.  Bernie
couldn't help it.  His laughter mixed with theirs.

***

Two mornings after their coffee 'date,' Marty pulled her truck to a
stop in the gravel parking lot of Ben's veterinary office.  Ben stood
outside leaning on a fence, watching two horses graze in his small
fenced yard.

"What's the big emergency?" she called to him as she swung her long
legs out of the truck.  Shadow tried to push out of the cab after
her, but she moved him back out of the way of the door.

Ben turned to face her, and Marty stopped in her tracks, stunned at
the cold, closed-in expression on her friend's face.  "What is it?
What's wrong?" she asked, forcing herself to move to his side.

He took a deep breath and turned around to rest his hands on the top
rung of the wood fence.  Marty could see his knuckles turning white.

"I need your help," he said, quietly, his attention still focused on
the two horses.  "I didn't know who else to ask.  I need someone I
can trust."

"What is it?" Marty asked again.

Ben gestured to the two large animals in front of them.  "They were
abused.  I got a court order, and I seized them from their owner, and
now I don't know what to do with them.  I can't keep them here."

Marty gazed directly at them, belatedly noting the protruding ribs
and shaggy coats of the two animals.  "How..." Her voice caught in
her throat.  She coughed and tried again.  "How were they abused?
What was done to them?"

"It was more what wasn't done," Ben said, quietly.  "They weren't fed
properly.  They weren't watered adequately.  They were kept in their
stalls all the time.  Never let out in the field from what I could
see. Both of them were ankle deep in excrement.  That one," he said,
pointing to a black gelding, "has infected feet.  If I can't cure the
infection, I'll have to put him down.  The other one," he said,
gesturing at a pretty chestnut mare, "her lungs don't sound very
good.  I'm hoping that mild exercise and good feed will straighten
her out, but it's too soon to tell."

Marty was silent, gazing at the two stricken animals.  Her heart went
out to them.  How could their owner have done this to them?

"Mom got an anonymous tip about them.  She and I went out first thing
this morning.  Thank goodness, Judge Harper hadn't gone away on
vacation yet.  And thank goodness, he's a horse lover.  He signed the
papers right away so we were able to confiscate them immediately."
Ben turned to face Marty directly.  "I didn't know who to call.  They
need to be on a farm, and they need to be nearby so I can visit them
regularly.  I know that you keep cows, but I thought... I wondered
if..."

"You wondered if I'd take them for you," she finished.

"Yeah. Will you?"  Ben's eyes were hopeful.

Marty nodded.  "Of course.  Since I got rid of my pigs and chickens,
I've got lots of room.  I don't know all that much about horses,
though.  You'll have to coach me - tell me what to feed them, and how
to treat them."

Ben closed his eyes and took a shaky breath.  He exhaled noisily
before looking at her once more.  "Thanks, Marty.  I knew that I
could count on you.  Tell you what.  How about I ask my assistant to
keep an eye on these guys, and you and I can go and get their stalls
ready, and pick up some feed?"

Marty quickly agreed.  Ben disappeared inside his office, leaving her
with the horses.  A lump rose in her throat as she watched the
gelding limp around the paddock, and she listened to the mare wheeze.

Much later, Ben and Marty lounged on matching hay bales across from
the horse stalls in Marty's barn.  They listened to the crunching
sounds of the horses munching their way through hay.

"They seem sweet," Marty said, her words breaking the companionable silence.

"They are," Ben replied.  "It always amazes me that some animals can
absorb any amount of abuse, and yet it doesn't seem to affect their
temperament any."

"Yeah.  I wish that held true for people," Marty said, bitterly.

Ben turned to her, a shocked look on his face.  "Oh!" he exclaimed.
"I'm sorry.  I wasn't thinking... I didn't mean..."

"It's okay, Ben," Marty said, with a sigh.  "I know you didn't mean
anything.  I'm just... having a hard time dealing with everything,"
she heard herself say much to her own surprise.  It was the first
time that she had brought up the subject of the attack.  Up to this
point, she'd only talked about it in direct response to questions.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Ben asked, his eyes intent on her face.

For a moment, Marty was tempted to open her mouth and let a flood of
words out.  She clamped down on that impulse, however - afraid that
if she started talking about it, she wouldn't be able to stop.  "No,"
she managed to choke out in response to Ben's question.  "No," she
repeated.

"Okay," Ben said, "but if you ever do want to talk..."

"No," Marty interrupted.  "No, I don't."

"Okay."

They fell silent once more and watched the horses for a very long time.

"I'll be over first thing tomorrow.  The mare's going to need I.V.
antibiotics every day, and I'm going to have to treat those hooves a
couple of times a day, too.  Okay?"

"Okay."

"I'll be here at 7:30.  I'll bring a couple of muffins from Maisie's
if you put the coffee on."  Ben grinned at her.

Marty grinned back.  "It's a deal."

***

The next morning, Marty watched Ben in amazement as he worked with
the horses.  The mare hadn't flinched a muscle when Ben gently slid
the hypodermic needle into a vein.  He had slowly and carefully
depressed the plunger, and the mare had still not reacted at all.

The gelding had been a little bit more nervous, but Ben had talked
quietly and soothingly to him until he had calmed down.  Then, he had
stood quietly as Ben had hauled each foot into the air and scraped
out all the infected material before packing each hoof with unguent.

Marty felt an unaccustomed respect for her friend.  She hadn't really
thought much about Ben before.  He'd been her buddy, her pal, but
that was all he had been.  Now, he was this very professional, very
caring veterinarian, and Marty was seeing a completely different side
of him.  It was unexpected.

"What are their names?" she asked, suddenly.

Ben shrugged.  "I don't think they have any."

"Oh."

"Why don't you name them?" Ben suggested.

"Me?"

"Sure.  You are helping to look after them, after all.  Go for it."

Marty smiled and regarded the two horses for a long moment.  Finally,
she pointed at the gelding, and said, "Diamond.  Because he's really
rough looking so that makes him a diamond in the..."

"In the rough.  I get it," Ben said, wincing a bit at the pun.  "How
about the mare?"

Marty studied the smaller of the two horses.  Even to her untutored
eye, she could see that she was a well put-together animal.  "How
about Gem?  It fits with Diamond.  What do you think?"

Ben grinned.  "It's perfect for her.  Okay.  Diamond and Gem, it is."

Marty smiled in response.  "So, you mentioned something about
muffins?" she asked.

"Oh, right.  Just let me wash my hands, and I'll get them from the car..."

Marty followed Ben, listening intently as he talked to her while he
washed his hands under a hose.  As he led her from the barn to her
kitchen, she didn't think about the fact that she was smiling and
laughing more than she had for weeks.  She also didn't realise that
she hadn't thought about Paul Stride or about his attack on her at
all that morning.  Instead she'd been intent on looking after the
horses.  She'd been focused on how she could help.

***

Maria Ramirez beamed up at the superhero.  "Thanks for the interview,
Superman.  I appreciate the exclusive."

Superman smiled back.  "Just living up to my side of our bargain."

Maria's expression turned serious.  "You're not obligated, you know.
I do like getting exclusives, but you know that I'd never tell even
if you shut me out of all the stories."

"I know, Maria.  But Lois and I are very grateful to you, and there's
no way that we could ever repay you.  A 'Superman story' once in a
while is just a small measure of our gratitude."

Maria nodded.  "Okay.  It's just that I don't want you to feel
obliged."  She moved to the edge of her balcony and gripped the rail.
"How's Marty doing?" she asked, not looking back at Superman as he
stood, hidden in the shadows of the overhang from the balcony above.

She heard him take a deep breath.  "A little better, I think," he
answered quietly.  "She's doing her own chores as of a few weeks ago."

"Do you think we'll see Shadow in action again?"

He sighed.  "I don't know.  If we do, it won't be soon.  She's not ready."

Maria turned to face him.  "Do you think it would be okay for me to
call her?  I've wanted to, but..." She glanced away once more.  "I
wasn't sure if she'd want to hear from me or not."

"I don't know."

"It wasn't my fault.  Stride would have attacked her no matter who
broke the story about her.  I don't feel guilty about that.  But I
was there.  I saw what he did to her.  I'm afraid that she might
resent me for being there.  For being a witness."

"You could try and call her.  She needs friends right now.  We've all
tried to help, to be there for her, but we're not enough.  If you
wanted to visit, one of us could..."

"No.  One step at a time.  I'll phone her and see how that goes.  If
a visit seems like a good idea, I'll let you know."

Superman stepped forward out of the shadows.  "Thank you, Maria," he
said, warmly.  "Lois and I are so grateful that you were the reporter
on the scene.  You know as well as I do what some of our colleagues
would have done with the story."

She nodded.  She did know.  Vividly.  Having gotten to know this very
honourable man standing in front of her, she felt a little queasy
thinking about it.

"Let me know about visiting.  I'll talk to you later."

She raised a hand in farewell as Superman launched himself into the
air.  He was gone in a heartbeat.

Maria turned her gaze to the cityscape in front of her.  It looked so
clean and fresh in the morning light.  Such a crazy, bustling city.
Sometimes this view of Metropolis made her excited.  It energized
her.  Other times, like today, it made her homesick for Puerto Rico
and her family.

Clark had told her that she had a free ride anytime she wanted to go
anywhere in the world.  Right now, it was all she could do not to
call him back and beg him to take her home.  But she didn't.  She
glanced at her watch.  She had work to do.  She'd have to hustle to
get to the office on time.  Her boss wouldn't be too upset if Maria
were a few minutes late, though.  Not when she showed up with another
exclusive.

***

The key turned, unlocking the door with an audible click.  Arms piled
high with folders that hadn't fit in his briefcase, Jimmy pushed it
open and entered the apartment.

The files were tossed onto the coffee table in front of the couch and
ignored while Jimmy headed for the kitchen.  He opened the fridge
door and surveyed the contents only to close it again with a sigh.
He wasn't that hungry anyway.

Throwing himself down on the couch, he reached for the first folder
in the haphazard pile.  He opened it only to close it again and toss
it back on top of the others.  Work wasn't very appealing at this
moment in time.  In fact, his whole daily routine wasn't very
appealing at this moment in time.

Every morning, he got up, ate a healthy breakfast, headed into work,
put in a full day, and headed home to eat dinner.  By himself.
Weekends were a bit more varied, but not by much.  He'd visit with
Bernie or he'd visit with Clark and Lois, or he'd go to see Perry and
Alice in their retirement home.  And he was always welcome at Sam and
Astrid's or at Jon's apartment.  He did love his friends, but
suddenly, it wasn't enough.  His life wasn't enough.

Bernie had presented him with an interesting problem.  There was the
distinct possibility that Jimmy was going to live a very long time -
much longer than the average human being.  He was very healthy; he
couldn't remember the last time he'd had the flu or a cold, but
thinking about it, he didn't doubt that it had happened before the
Veda Doodsen incident.  His doctor was always amazed at his
physicals, telling his forty-plus patient that he had the heart,
lungs and muscle tone of a twenty-year-old.

Great, Jimmy thought, sourly.  What was the point of living so long
when you didn't enjoy life anymore?  Oh, there were moments of joy,
but he was so lonely.  He hadn't even been tempted to date anyone
other than Lee.  She had spoiled him for all others.

He had tried, he really had, to date others over the years.  He
hadn't wanted to, but he'd felt that he'd had to try to keep his
promise to her.  When Mr. Wells had come back for her, she'd asked
him to promise that he wouldn't wait for her, but would try to have a
good life.  So he'd dated.  And every date had been lacking in so
much that it had just about broken his heart each time.  He'd only
ended up missing Lee more and more, and he'd finally given up.  It
was too painful.

And now, Sam and Astrid were expecting the birth of the love of his
life, and he was going to have to play the part of the doting uncle.
He didn't think he had it in him.  He treasured his relationship with
Clark and Lois's kids and with Astrid.  He loved being Uncle Jimmy,
but this was different.  He had no desire to watch Lee grow up and
date others.  And he'd rather slit his own wrists than watch her
marry, he thought, bitterly.

He snorted.  She wasn't even born yet, and he was obsessing about the
whole situation, jealous of some mythical suitors.  How much worse
would it be after her birth?

He pushed himself up off his couch to go and survey the contents of
his fridge once more.  If only for something to do, he really should
make something to eat.

***

With Vicky away at Sam and Astrid's, Clark and Lois ate alone.  They
were almost finished with their meal.  They had eaten in silence,
which was a state of affairs that was becoming only too common.
Clark had prepared a pasta dish that was on both of their short lists
of favourites, but even so, they'd both spent an inordinate amount of
time pushing the food around on their plates.

"You told me the Houghton story was almost done," Lois said, breaking
the silence.

Clark came back to himself with a jolt.  "Yeah.  I'll have it on your
desk by noon tomorrow."

"Good."  Lois ran the tip of her finger around the edge of her water
glass.  "I should be able to get away by one at the latest.  I
thought I'd ask Jimmy to put the paper to bed.  That way, we can head
to Marty's early if nothing, um, super comes up."

"Okay, sounds good."  Clark continued to toy with his food, frowning
at the abstract design he'd created on his plate.

"Oh, Clark!" Lois exclaimed, sadly.  "What are we going to do if she
doesn't snap out of it?"

He sighed heavily.  "She will."

"But what if she doesn't?"  Lois's eyes glistened.

"She will," Clark insisted once more.  "She has to.  Marty's strong,
honey.  Once she gets over the initial shock and trauma, she'll
recover."

"It's been almost two months.  I'm scared, Clark."

He moved to her side in one swift motion and took her hands in his.  "Why?"

She shook her head, a tear escaping and trickling down her cheek.  "I
don't want to say.  I'm afraid if I do, if I say what I think, I'll
be right."

Clark sighed again.  He bowed his head.  "I know.  Do you think
you're the only one who hasn't considered that something more might
have happened?  She was in Stride's clutches for a long time before
we knew about it.  But she keeps saying 'no,' that nothing like that
happened."

"I don't believe her," Lois said, bluntly.  "I've been beaten up before
- heck, I've been dropped out of airplanes!  I never took this long
to recover.  I... I'm really worried that he didn't just... hit her."
Lois's voice cracked.

Clark screwed his eyes shut and took a shaky breath.  "Me, too."  His
grip tightened on Lois's fingers.

"You never said..."

"What?  That I was scared, too?  I am.  Very scared.  I... I don't
believe her, either."

"Why won't she talk to us?" Lois asked, plaintively.

Clark sighed again.  "I don't know.  She has to know that if he..."
He roughly cleared his throat.  "It's not like we'd blame her if
he..."

"No, we wouldn't, but..." A pensive look came over Lois's face.
"Maybe she blames herself."

"I hope not."

"I don't know what to do," Lois said, frustrated.  "I don't know
whether to push her to talk or not.  If... it did happen, and I think
it did, she needs to talk it out.  I don't think that she can deal
with this on her own."

"I don't know if I can talk about it with her, honey," Clark
confessed, sadly.  "I want to, but I don't know how."

"She's your daughter, too, Clark.  We both have to try."

Clark ran his hands through his hair and looked away from his wife.
"I feel ashamed."

"Why?"

"It's hard to explain."  He looked at Lois briefly, his eyes
tortured, before turning away once more.  "I'm a man.  I feel ashamed
that a man did this to her.  I... it's horrible to think that
something you and I share...  that the most profound physical
expression of our love could be... perverted and twisted to hurt her."

Lois leaned forward to place her hand gently on his arm.  "Clark, is
that why we haven't made love since this happened?"

He groaned.  "I can't.  Every time, I think of... you and me in that
way, I can't help imagining what he did to her."  Clark's voice
broke, and he buried his face in his hands.

"Oh, honey," Lois said, softly as she wrapped her arms around his
hunched shoulders.  "What you and I share has nothing to do with what
might have happened."

"I know that, Lois!  Do you think I don't know that?  But I can't
help it.  I'm so worried and sick about this, it's eating me alive."

Lois sighed, heavily.  "Why didn't we talk about this before?"

Clark slowly shook his head.  "I don't know.  I guess we weren't
ready.  Or maybe we didn't want to face the possibility."

"I never thought it would be a possibility for our girls.  I always
worried about them when they were younger - you know, we'd go to the
park, and I'd insist that they stay close to me.  I wouldn't let them
go to the bathroom on their own in a restaurant but always went with
them."

"I know, and I always went with the boys, too."

"But when their invulnerability kicked in, I stopped worrying about
them.  Or at least I stopped worrying about them coming to any
physical harm."  Lois paused in thought for a second.  "Actually,
that's not entirely true.  I've always worried about Kryptonite, but
I visualised it as more... final than this.  I've always worried
about someone killing them - or you."  Lois looked up at her husband,
her expression bleak.  He squeezed her hand reassuringly.  "I never
thought about this," she finished.

"Neither did I."  He took a deep breath and blew it out noisily.
"There's another reason that I feel ashamed," he said.

"What?"

"It's my fault that he... that Paul Stride hated her so much.  If I
hadn't put his mother in jail...  If it weren't for me...  Diana
Stride hated me so much, and she passed that hate on to her son.  I
should have done something different.  I should have known..."

"Clark!  She tried to kill you.  She tried to kill me.  Don't tell me
that you're sorry that she didn't succeed!"

"What?  Oh!  No, I'm not sorry... Of course, I'm not sorry.  But
there must have been something I could have done differently.  I
should have handled the whole situation better..."

Lois snorted in exasperation.  "Clark, when you put on your suit,
you're Superman.  You're not God.  You're not omniscient, and yes,
you're very strong, but you're not omnipotent either.  There's
nothing that you could have done differently.  Not like me."

"What do you mean?  What could you have done?"

"If I had gone through those files from Legal faster...  We would
have known sooner...  We could have warned her.  Three days.  It took
me three days to sort through all that info."  Tears streamed down
her face.

"But we had no reason to worry.  We had no reason to be suspicious.
You even researched him.  He was smart.  He adopted the name of a
bonafide photographer.  This is not your fault."

"But he hurt our daughter!" Lois's words were like the bursting of a
dam.  "He hurt our daughter," she repeated, sobbing.

The tears flowed on Clark's part, too.  "I know," he said, his voice
thick and rough.  "Oh, Lois."  He gathered her into his arms as his
own sobs started.

They huddled together, their bodies shaking with the force of their emotion.

"We couldn't help her..."

"There was no way to stop him..."

"She was helpless..."

"At his mercy for a whole day..."

"We didn't know..."

They gradually calmed down.  The tears still flowed, but the wracking
sobs came to a stop.

Lois took a shaky breath.  "I'd rather be dead if it kept her safe."

"Me, too.  I wanted him to hurt me, not her."

Lois reached up to cup Clark's tearstained cheek in her hand.  "He
did hurt you, Clark... I was so scared.  I thought he was going to
kill the two of you in front of my eyes.  I didn't care about me, but
I was so worried about you."  She started to sob again.  "Clark, you
and the kids are everything to me.  I don't want to lose you.  I
don't want to lose any of you."

"I know.  I feel the same way."  Clark rubbed Lois's back gently
until she calmed down once more.

"Oh, Clark!" Lois blurted out.  "All this time, I've been blaming
myself, and you've been blaming yourself, and we never talked about
it!  I was afraid that you might blame me, too!"

"Lois, honey, I could never blame you," Clark said as his fingers
gently traced the line of her jaw.

"I didn't know... I wasn't sure...  All I knew was that you
weren't... you weren't... touching me... I thought maybe you did."
Lois's tears burst forth anew.

Clark buried his head in her hair as he realised how his actions had
appeared to Lois.  He gently slid an arm under her legs and stood up,
effortlessly.  She looked up in surprise at his actions.

He gazed at her warmly.  "I could never blame you," he repeated.  "I love you."

Lois closed her eyes in relief.  "I love you, too."

His lips brushed against hers lightly, once, twice and then came down
more firmly.  A long, sweet kiss later, she opened her eyes and
studied the loving, warm expression on her husband's face as he
carried her carefully up the stairs.

"I've been an idiot, haven't I?" he asked as he gently laid her on the bed.

"We've both been idiots," she said.  "Now that we've managed to talk
about this, hopefully we'll be able to help our daughter more
effectively."

"And now that we've managed to talk about this, I'm not as scared to
touch you," Clark admitted as he stretched out beside her.

Lois rolled over onto her side and rested her head on his chest.
"Let's not do this to each other again, Clark.  We can handle
anything if we're together... if we haven't turned away from each
other."

"I know.  Sometimes, it's hard to remember, though."  Clark gathered
her close, his hands tentatively caressing her back.  She was quick
to reciprocate, instilling confidence in him.

They made love, joining together, two bodies, one soul.  It was
tender, it was sweet, it was life affirming, and it was unbearably
sad.

After, Clark sobbed in Lois's arms as her own tears dripped unheeded
from her cheeks, soaking his hair.

***

Blissfully unaware of her parents' anguish, Marty couldn't stop
giggling.  "It tickles," she said.

"I know.  But it's fun, isn't it?"

Marty grinned at Ben, her eyes dancing.  She stood in the middle of a
grassy paddock, two horses nuzzling at her.  He stood outside the
fence, watching them as he leaned on the top rail.

"Why does turning your back to them work?  Why would that make them
so affectionate?" she asked.  She jumped as from behind Diamond tried
to mouth her neck once more.  On her other side, Gem continued to rub
her large head gently against Marty's arm.

"They're herd animals," Ben answered.  "Anyone that's not part of the
herd makes them a bit nervous.  When you turn your back, you're
isolating yourself from them.  They don't like it, so they start
trying to entice you back into the herd."

"Makes sense, I guess," Marty said as she turned to face the two
animals.  She pulled a couple of apples out of her pocket which
Diamond and Gem crunched with a great deal of messy enthusiasm.
Brushing the leftover bits of fruit off the bib of her overalls, she
ducked under the top wire of the fence and emerged from the paddock.
"That was fun!" she announced.  "Thanks, Ben."

"You're welcome," he replied, pleased by the happy expression on his
friend's face.  Things had worked out so well.  When he'd seized the
two horses from their delinquent owner, he'd needed a home for them
where they would be well cared for.  Marty had sprung instantly to
mind.  He'd known that the horses would receive lots of attention,
and that it would be good for them.  He'd hoped that it would be good
for her, too, but this was surpassing his wildest dreams.

"I wouldn't recommend turning your back on every horse you meet,
though," he pointed out.  "There are quite a few out there that you
just can't trust."  He gazed at the two in front of him that were
busy mowing their way through the grass still wet from the morning
dew.  "But these guys seem pretty trustworthy.  They've got really
good dispositions."

"Yes, they do," Marty agreed as she leaned on the fence rail beside
Ben.  She turned to him with a happy smile.  "I'm glad you brought
them to me.  I like my cows, but I've never bonded with them."

Ben laughed.  "You think petting them is fun?  When they're better,
we should be able to ride them.  Now that's fun!"

"Wow!" Marty glowed in delight, a wistful smile playing about her
lips.  "I've never ridden before, but I've always wanted to try."
She glanced at Ben hopefully.  "Do you really think they'll get well
enough for us to ride?"

They started strolling to Ben's car, as it was time for him to head to work.

Ben nodded.  "It's only been a couple of days, but Diamond's feet are
at least ten percent better.  Gem's cough seems to be drying up, too.
It's going to take a while for the two of them to build up their
stamina, though.  They have to build muscle, too.  We won't be riding
them next week.  But we might in a couple of months."

"I'm amazed that they're already putting on weight," Marty said.

"It's the feed we bought - different mix of hay than what you give
your cows.  More red clover in it.  That helps put weight on."

"I'd say it's working.  They look a lot better."

They came to a halt beside the small car.

Ben nodded again.  "Yeah.  In fact, they're so much better, I think
it's time."  He opened the door and folded his long body behind the
steering wheel.

"Time for what?"

Ben smiled as he turned the key in the ignition.  "I don't have any
clients this afternoon.  How about I get here a little early, and you
can give me a hand?" he said through the open window.

"Doing what?"

"Giving them a bath, of course."  Ben grinned at her as he put the
car in gear.  It lurched into motion.  He chuckled as he caught sight
of her open-mouthed expression in the rear view mirror.  "A bath?" he
heard her say plaintively as he set off down her gravel driveway.

Much later, the hot sun blazed down on the grassy field.  Anyone
passing by would have heard an interesting combination of noises.
The braying, neighing sounds of a couple of excited horses mixed with
yells and shouts from the two people.  The boisterous barking of a
dog completed the cacophony of noise.

Marty squealed once more as the cold spray from the hose soaked her
back.  "Stop spraying me!  I'm not the one who needs a shower."

"I'd stop if you'd just hold her still!"

"I'm trying, but she's really fighting.  She doesn't seem to like
cold water."  Marty glared at Ben, mock-ferociously.  "I know exactly
how she feels!"

"Sorry," he apologized hastily as the mare, dancing at the end of her
lead-rope, jerked Marty around, and the cold water hit her in the
face.  "I'm trying.  Do you want to trade places?"

Marty shook her head vigorously, sending water droplets flying in an
arc around her.  "No," she said, disgruntled.  "I'm wet now.  The
question is - is she wet enough to be shampooed?"

"I think so."  Ben tossed the hose down onto the grass and picked up
a bucket of soapy water.  Dipping a scrub brush in, he transferred
some of the suds to the mare's back and started to rub energetically.
Now that the cold water wasn't aimed at her, Gem settled down and
seemed to enjoy the attention.  Marty wasn't thrilled, though, when
Gem decided to get affectionate and thrust her soap-covered head into
Marty's armpit.

Marty had to laugh as she fended off the attentions of the
affectionate mare.  "Gee, thanks, Gem.  It's incredibly kind of you
to share your bath with me!" she said, sarcastically.  She looked
over at Ben with a grin.  "So nice to be loved!"

"Hey, she's doing us both a favour.  We're not going to need showers tonight!"

It wasn't true.  The two of them were just as soaked as Gem was, but
they were getting dirtier and dirtier.  Luckily, they had both
dressed appropriately.  Ben wore cut-off denim shorts that were badly
frayed at their hem.  He had been wearing a tight T-shirt but had
quickly stripped it off when things had started to get messy.

Marty had felt a little uncomfortable for a moment at his lack of
clothing, but she had quickly reminded herself that this was Ben, her
best friend, whom she had known forever.  For heaven's sake, when
they were thirteen, they'd skinny-dipped together on a dare.  Of
course, it had been night, and the moon had been hidden behind
clouds, and no one had been able to see anything in the dark, but
even so, the fact that they'd done it had to mean that it would be
foolish for her to be thrown by his bare chest.

Her eyes flicked casually over to the piece of anatomy in question.
Not a bad chest, she thought in spite of herself.  Ben had a lot more
muscles than she'd realised.  Even though it was streaked with dirt
where Gem had leaned against him, even though it was speckled with
half-masticated pieces of grass, his chest still looked pretty nice
to her untutored eyes.  It wasn't like Stride's chest.  He'd been too
chiselled, the outer perfection of him hiding a rotting core.

Marty shivered, the heat of the sun no longer able to warm her
spirit.  Stride.  Why'd he have to pop into her head?  She'd been
having such a good time with Ben and the horses.  Was it always going
to be like this - remembering what he'd done at such inopportune
times?  Would she ever be free of him?  She glowered at the green
grass at her feet only to gasp as Gem took a step forward, her very
solid hoof landing on Marty's bare toes.  Marty glanced at Ben
surreptitiously as she eased the hoof back off again.  He didn't seem
to have noticed, thankfully.  For a moment, Marty wondered why the
prospect of Ben finding out her secret didn't give her the same
half-nauseous, half-delighted frisson of excitement that she had felt
when she'd contemplated letting Stride know.  It must be because Ben
didn't excite her in the same way as Stride had - or at least as he
had before he'd revealed himself to be the proverbial scum of the
earth.  Her gaze guiltily flicked back to Ben and then lingered on
the play of muscles in his back as he continued to scrub at the dirt
on Gem's flank.

"There!  I think that's got it.  Ready for me to rinse her?"

Marty grinned.  "Nope.  I think turnabout's fair play.  My turn to
hold the hose."

"All right," Ben said in a resigned tone of voice.  He plucked the
lead-rope out of Marty's hands and braced himself.  "Be gentle with
me."

***

Ben welcomed the spray of cold water.  It had been all he could do
not to react to Marty as they worked together; he needed the water to
cool down.

As they'd worked, she'd laughed and giggled, her beautiful eyes
shining happily.  Ben couldn't help but notice her shapely curves as
the damp material of her T-shirt and shorts clung to her.  Not
wanting to scare her off, Ben had had to content himself with
sneaking peeks at his extremely curvaceous and totally gorgeous
friend.

Ben was very much afraid that he was falling completely and totally
in love with Marty.  He didn't think it was just pity for what she
had gone through.  And he didn't think it was just friendship.  He'd
had many friends of the opposite sex during his school years, but
this was so much more intense.  He also didn't think that it was just
lust, although on his part, there was a fair dollop of that in the
mix.

He knew, though, that he had to keep all those feelings buried as
deeply as possible.  Marty was so skittish.  Who could blame her?
She'd suffered an incredibly vicious attack that had turned her whole
life upside down.  And Ben very much feared that there had been more
to the attack than what had been made public.  He hoped not, but he
feared it was a vain hope.  It made him sick to think that she might
have been violated so horribly.

Ben actually had a little bit of experience dealing with sexual
assault and its aftermath.  He had volunteered on a help line while
he'd been in college, and he'd had a couple of callers who had been
struggling to put their lives back together after having been
assaulted in that way.  He wasn't a trained psychologist, though.
Most of what he'd said had been along the lines of who they should
call, and what they could do.  Other than that, he'd listened with an
open mind and had commiserated with them.

To her credit, Marty finally seemed to be struggling hard to dig
herself out of the pit of depression she had fallen into.  She was
being an incredibly fantastic help with the horses - even better than
he'd hoped she would be.  It had been great to find out exactly how
well they worked together.  For a moment, Ben dared to imagine what
it would be like to have her in his life as his helpmate.

A spray of water across his face put an end to those thoughts.
"Hey!" he protested.

"Sorry!"

"She might not be rinsed enough, but I sure am!"

Marty laughed and threw the hose down on the grass.  "Okay, now what?"

Ben picked up a flexed strip of rubber.

"What's that?" Marty asked.  "It looks like a squeegee for washing a
windshield."

"That's exactly what it is," Ben told her.  "It's just been bent a
little bit, but it does a great job of getting most of the water out
of her coat."  He demonstrated, running the squeegee along the mare's
side.  He handed Marty her own gadget, and they worked together in a
companionable silence.

"Okay, good enough," Ben said, finally.  He led her over to the
fenced paddock.  "She'll finish drying in the sun, and then we can
groom her."  He looked back at Marty and grinned.  "Ready to help
with Diamond?"

Marty grabbed the hose and flourished it dramatically.  "Aye, aye,
sir!  I'm at your command."

Ben laughed and quickly haltered the gelding.  Leading Diamond out of
the paddock towards Marty, one thought ran constantly through his
mind.  More than anything, he wanted Marty to always be as happy and
light-hearted as she was at this moment in time.

Marty turned the hose on Diamond who promptly skittered out of the
way.  The arcing spray of water hit Ben full in the chest promptly
putting a stop to his train of thought.

"Hey!"

"Sorry!  Hold him still!"

"I'm trying," Ben protested.  "Hey!" he exclaimed again.

"Sorry!"

***

As Clark flew her towards Smallville, Lois snuggled closer to his
solid form and, uncharacteristically, closed her eyes.  Normally she
watched the world pass by below - a view that she'd never tired of
over the years - but today she just couldn't be bothered.  She was so
tired.  The release of tension that she had experienced the night
before was enough to totally enervate her.

Thank heavens they had talked.  Lois had known that Clark hadn't been
angry with her, but she'd sensed, even so, that there had been
something that he hadn't told her.  Clark hadn't changed over the
years; he still found it unbearably hard to share his worries and
concerns with her.  Normally she pressed him to open up - after so
many years together she knew exactly what buttons to push - but she'd
been too upset herself and too busy blaming herself to have the
energy to deal with Clark's concerns.

Now that they had been able to talk, Lois felt infinitely better but
also very off-balance.  She knew that the brunt of the upcoming
conversation with Marty was going to fall on her shoulders, and she
had no idea how to prepare for this incredibly important talk with
their daughter.  At least Clark had promised to stay with Lois so
they could present a united, concerned front.  Lois felt that it was
important for Marty to know that she had the support of both her
parents - no matter how uncomfortable discussing things openly might
be.

Clark swooped down towards the farmhouse with Lois in his arms only
to pull up short.

"What is it?" Lois asked, a little apprehensive.

Clark carefully floated a little closer, making sure that he and Lois
weren't visible from the ground.  "Listen!" he exclaimed.

Lois couldn't believe what she was hearing.  She could hear her
daughter giggling, the sound mingling with the deeper laughter of a
man.  Shadow barked - a joyful sound - in the background.

Clark landed them on the far side of the house, away from the noise
and then spun into his street clothes.  He exchanged a puzzled glance
with Lois, and then, hand in hand, they moved towards the commotion
only to stop dead when they saw the sight in front of them.

Tension she wasn't even aware that she had been feeling leached from
Lois's body when she recognised Ben Palmer.  Marty and Ben seemed to
be wrestling with a horse! Lois looked blankly at Clark, Clark gazed
goggle-eyed back at Lois, and then they continued on, Lois
unconsciously moving slightly ahead of her husband.

"Hi!"

At Clark's greeting, Ben spun around, hose still in hand.  As the
hose came into view - the hose spraying very cold, very wet water -
everything seemed to start moving in slow motion.  Lois could see the
trajectory of the arc of water, she could watch as it moved towards
her, but somehow, she couldn't manage to get out of the way in time.

Things snapped back into focus as the water sprayed full-force in her face.

"I'm sorry!  I'm so sorry," Ben stuttered, dropping the hose onto the grass.

Lois pushed her wet hair off her face.  "It's okay," she hissed from
between clenched teeth, her lips fixed in a tight, polite smile.  "No
problem."  She plucked her sodden blouse away from her torso.  She
could feel her cheeks heating up, but she clamped down tightly on her
temper.

Marty started to laugh.  Lois spun to face her and locked eyes with
her daughter.  Marty only laughed harder.  Lois glanced at Clark to
see that he had managed to escape the brunt of the water.  The only
reason he wasn't laughing, too, was because he was exerting steely
self-control.  From the look of him, that self-control was almost a
thing of the past.

Lois eyed Ben, who still stood in front of her, shocked and upset,
then regarded her husband once more.  Clark's eyes were dancing
mischievously.  She finally turned to survey Marty who was holding
onto her ribs in her merriment.  Against her will, Lois's lips
started to twitch, and she joined in, laughing, too.

Tacitly granted permission to give in to his desire to express his
amusement, Clark just about fell apart.  Ben was the last to join in.

Finally, Lois was able to regain a small modicum of control.  "I
figured we'd hitch a ride early to surprise you.  Next time we'll
call ahead," she said, sardonically.

"I'm really sorry, Ms. Lane," Ben repeated, sincerely.  "I feel just awful."

Clark snorted.  "If you think you feel awful now, just wait until
Lois gets done with you!"  Lois spun on him quickly and smacked him
on the shoulder.  "Ow!" he exclaimed, insincerely, a smirk on his
face.

Oh, so Clark was going to tease her, was he?  Well, two could play
that game.  "Honey, I'm sorry.  Did I hurt you?" she cooed.

"Uh, no," he replied, tentatively, looking a little worried at the
loving tone of her voice.

Lois sidled a little closer and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.
"You took me by surprise... I didn't mean to slap you..." Her fingers
stroked him slowly and sensually.

"It's okay," Clark assured her, his face relaxing a bit, showing his
appreciation of the tender caress.

"Let me kiss it better..."

Lois pounced.

Instead of a loving kiss on the shoulder, Clark found himself on the
receiving end of a full frontal embrace from a very wet wife.  She
ground her sodden body against his as she enthusiastically kissed
him.  When they came up for air, she had to peel herself off him,
leaving behind a very interesting, very wet imprint on his shirt and
slacks.

"That's it!" Clark exclaimed.  "Where's that hose?"

Lois squealed and ran as fast as she could behind Ben, Marty and the
horse.  Ha!  He wouldn't spray Marty.  He wouldn't spray Ben.  Laugh
at her, would he?  Just wait.  But to her shock, Marty spun around
and gripped her mother by the arm.

"It's okay, Dad.  I'm already wet.  Let 'er have it!"

Lois only had a second to gape in astonishment at her daughter before
the water hit her full force.  As she screamed in laughter and
shouted mock-threats at Clark and Marty, she thanked God for the
sound of her daughter's mirth.

***

"I'm really sorry, Ms. Lane," Ben said for the umpteenth time that
evening.  He placed the wet, clean plate in the drainer and picked up
the next one to be washed.

"Ben, would you please stop apologizing to me," Lois said, wearily.
"I keep telling you that it's all right."  She dried the plate and
put it away in the cupboard.

"I know.  But I just feel so bad...  I didn't know that you were there."

"Ben!"

At Lois's irritated exclamation, Ben's head snapped up, and he
focused all his attention on her.

"Listen to me.  I'm going to say this once more.  It's all right."

"But..." he started to say, a look of worry on his face.

Lois's expression softened.  "It really is all right, Ben.  It was a
small price to pay to hear Marty laugh like that.  I can't pretend I
was thrilled to get soaked..." she chuckled as she hitched Marty's
spare pair of jeans back up onto her hips, "but I'd get soaked a
hundred times if it meant I could hear her laugh so wholeheartedly
once again.  You don't know how happy that made me."

"Oh, I think I do," Ben replied.  "I've been really worried about
her, too.  She didn't deserve any of this."  He pulled his hands out
of the soapy water, placed them on the edge of the sink and looked
out the window in front of him.  "It makes me sick that someone like
Marty - someone so nice and sensitive and kind - could have something
so horrible happen to her.  It's not fair."

Lois placed a gentle hand on his arm.  "Has she talked to you about it, Ben?"

"No.  Not really."  Ben turned to Lois, a distressed expression on
his face.  "I think she blames herself, though.  For being tricked by
his act."

Lois glanced up at him and did a double take.  Her eyes narrowed as
they searched his face.  "You really care for her, don't you?"  It
was a statement rather than a question.

Ben smiled wryly.  "Does it show?"

"It does to me.  Maybe because I'm her mother.  Or maybe because I've
seen that exact same expression on Clark's face when he's been
worried about me.  Have you said anything to her?"

Ben snorted.  "No, and I'm not going to either.  She's not ready to
hear anything like that from me.  I don't know if she'll ever be
ready."  A movement outside caught his attention.  He peered out the
window intently.  "They're on their way back.  Boy, Marty gets the
chores done at least ten times faster when Clark's helping!"

Lois giggled, startling Ben.  He hadn't said anything that funny, had
he?  He turned to her.  "You're not going to say anything, are you?"

Lois smiled warmly, her hand squeezing his arm.  "Your secret's safe with me."

"Thanks, Ms. Lane."

"Ben, you're not ten years old anymore.  You're a college graduate
and an accredited professional.  Don't you think it's time to call me
Lois?"

"Okay... Lois."

***

"I had a great talk with Ben while you two were doing the chores.  He
seems very nice."

Marty glanced up at her mother before looking back down at the dregs
in her coffee cup.  "Yes, he is."

"I remember when he was ten, he always seemed to have a garter snake
or a toad in his hand that he'd insist on showing me."

Marty half-smiled.  "I remember."

"He seemed like such a geeky little kid.  Who knew he'd be a vet someday?"

"I did," Marty said, shifting in her chair.  "He told me a long time
ago that that's what he wanted."

"Seems to be a very good vet, too."

"Uh huh," was all that Marty said.  She didn't want to talk about
Ben.  Her friendship with him was too fragile at the moment to
analyse.

"Rachel must be tickled pink to have him home with her."

"I guess so.  He hasn't talked about her much."

"What do you talk about?" her mother asked, leaning forward onto her
arms and fixing her gaze on Marty's face.

Her dad shifted in his seat and shot a look at her mother that was
easy to interpret.  He was clearly not happy with her for pursuing
this topic of conversation.

"Animals," Marty said, bluntly, feeling a little cornered.  "We talk
about Shadow, Gem and Diamond and how they're doing.  More coffee?"
She pushed herself up from the table and strode over to the counter,
her back to her parents.  Marty gazed out the kitchen window at the
darkness beyond.  Her attention was captured by the reflection in the
glass.  Her mother was making interesting facial expressions at her
father and was attempting to convey something to him with quite
animated gestures.  He shook his head, obviously not getting whatever
her mother was trying to tell him.

"You should have never taught me how to spell," Marty said, spinning
around to face them.

"Huh?"  Her parents looked at her quizzically.

"It must have been a lot easier to talk over my head when you could
spell everything out."  At their puzzled looks, she continued, "I
could see you... In the glass...  You know, your reflection."

Her mother looked very defensive.  Her father had the grace to look ashamed.

"Sorry, honey," he said.  "We're worried about you."

Hot tears sprang to Marty's eyes.  "I know," she replied, softly.

Her mother glanced at her father before turning back to Marty.
"Sweetheart, we need to talk."

Marty's stomach knotted.  "What about?"

"I think you know."  Her mom got up and walked over to stand in front of Marty.

Marty couldn't look up.  She couldn't look her mother in the eye.
She sensed her father moving to flank her mother, making her feel
cornered.

"We're worried about you," her father said, his voice strained.

Marty's breath rasped in her throat, her muscles starting to quiver.

"This man did horrible things to you.  You need to talk about it."

"You need to talk to us."

"Have you thought about counselling?  Bernie could recommend someone..."

"You have to let your feelings out..."

"I brought some information with me.  About Rape Crisis Centres.  We
could sit down and look them over and..."

Their words came faster and faster, unwelcome to Marty's ears.

"No," Marty muttered, deep in her throat.  "No!" she repeated,
louder, shaking her head.

"But you need to," her mother insisted.  "It's time."

"No!  No, it isn't!" Marty exclaimed emphatically.  "I don't need to!
I don't want to."  She felt claustrophobic, the walls closing in on
her, her parents cutting off her only avenue of escape.

"Sweetheart, we love you."  Her father placed a gentle hand on her arm.

"No!"  Marty flinched and struck his hand off automatically.  "I
can't," she said, firmly.  Her chest burned; she needed air.  She
looked up and glared at her parents who recoiled from her.  "I love
you, too.  But I'm not going to talk about this.  I'm not ready."

"Marty, we know something more happened..." her mother said, a
worried look in her eyes.

"No," Marty repeated.  "Nothing happened!  Let me past...  Now," she
added vehemently when they didn't move fast enough.

As soon as they'd stepped out of her way, Marty was gone, flying
blindly into the night.

***

Lois turned to Clark, her face white and stark.  "We blew it," she
said, simply.  "We pushed too hard."

He nodded, his eyes bleak.  "Should I..."

"Go?  Yes.  At least, I think so.  You need to keep an eye on her.
Tell her... we're sorry and that we love her..."

Clark took a step back and spun in place, his red, blue and yellow
outfit replacing the jeans and t-shirt he'd been wearing.

"Tell her we won't push her anymore," Lois continued.

"I will."  Clark pulled Lois into his arms for a quick, heartfelt
kiss before darting for the open door.

After he disappeared, Lois slowly straightened up the chair that had
been knocked over by Marty's precipitous exit from the room.  She
unplugged the coffeepot, dumped the grounds from the filter and
rinsed everything out before quickly washing up the three mugs.
Everything was done on autopilot.  Her mind and her heart had taken
wing with her husband, following the trail of her daughter's pain.

***

Clark arrowed through the sky, following Marty's path.  He could
sense where she was heading from the roiling of the disturbed air
currents.  He knew that if he weren't matching her speed, he'd be
able to hear the thunder rumbling of her passage as they both broke
the sound barrier.  For a second he wondered if he'd be able to catch
up to her as she had a good head start, but then realised that, yes,
he was slowly but steadily narrowing the gap between them.

He flew in a panic.  It upset him to see his daughter in such
turmoil.  He worried, wondering what she was going to do.

This worry was new to him.  It was true that his children had
unbelievable power - he, himself, had unbelievable power - but he had
never thought of the possibility of any of them running amuck.  Not
that he thought Marty would do anything intentionally, but there was
always the possibility of something inadvertent.

No, his kids had learned to control themselves in tandem with
learning to control their developing powers.  There had been a few
miscalculations of how much force to apply to do a task, but they had
been few and far between.  The raw power that Marty was currently
displaying in her headlong flight was a whole different order of
magnitude.

Somehow it was easier to worry about Marty's loss of control than to
worry as to what had caused it.  He was heartsick to think that her
extreme reaction to their attempt to discuss the attack might prove
the truth as to what he and Lois had theorized had happened.

Clark sighed.  He took a deep breath of the thin air that streamed
past his face and focused on getting just a bit more speed out of his
system.  He had to catch up with her.  He just had to.  She was his
daughter, and she needed him.

***

Marty flew in a blind, unreasoning panic.  'Get away!  Hide!' her
mind screamed.  'Curl up in a ball in the shadows where no one can
see you.  Where no one can hurt you ever again!'

She streaked through the sky, unaware of where she was, moving from
darkness to sunlight and back again.  She flew until her lungs gasped
for air.  She could sense her father's presence, keeping pace with
her, tracking her, gaining on her.  It made her that much more
desperate to get away.

Marty slowly became aware that her father was flying parallel to her.
He wasn't trying to intercept her, but was instead flying in tandem
with her.  He was accompanying her as she tried to ride through her
pain.  This realisation gradually brought her back to herself, her
speed slowly diminishing to a more normal level.

It also made her realise that it wasn't her parents that she was
trying to escape from; it was the demons she carried inside that she
was attempting to flee.  And couldn't.

Marty stopped and hung limply in the air.  She watched dully as the
speck that was her father slowly approached.  When he was close
enough that she could see the anguished expression on his face, he
spoke.

"Can I come closer?"

Marty nodded, too worn out to speak.

Clark flew to hover, facing her.  She looked down at the cloudbanks
below, not wanting to see his face, not wanting to see how
disappointed he must be in her.

She felt his hand lightly touch her hair.  She flinched.  His hand
paused, before resuming the gentle caress.

"I'm sorry," he said, softly.  "Your mom's sorry, too."

Marty nodded again, a lump rising in her throat.

"We put too much pressure on you to open up.  It's just that..." His
voice cracked.  "We love you so much," he finished, the words
sounding half-strangled.

Marty looked up to see tears running down her father's cheeks.  Their
eyes locked.  She felt humbled by the depths of unquestioning love
she could read in his face.  "I'm sorry," she managed to gasp,
forcing the words past the lump in her throat.  "I'm so sorry, Daddy."

He reached out his hand once more to tentatively caress her
tearstained cheek.  A flood of emotion rushed through her, and she
threw herself into his arms.

He held her close, murmuring tender words in her ear as she cried
against his shoulder.  "I can't... I can't..." she stammered over and
over again.  "I can't talk about it.  I just can't."

"It's okay... You don't have to...  We love you...  We're here for you..."

She felt safe in his arms.  Safe for the first time since... it had
happened.  Safe to just... let go.  Cradled like a baby, Marty felt
her thoughts stop.  She gratefully slid into the warm and comforting
darkness, not even aware when he gently laid her on her bed and
covered her up.

She slept soundly and dreamlessly, not even waking when Shadow joined
her, pressing his warm body up against her legs as close as he could
get.

***

Dr. Klein rubbed his tired, burning eyes.  He wasn't as young as he
used to be, but this was important enough that it warranted him
putting in the extra hours.  Also, due to the nature of his research,
it was imperative that the lab be deserted while he worked.
Unfortunately, that meant he had to work in the wee small hours of
the night.  He sighed and pulled the results of Lois's blood test up
on his monitor.

Well, this was interesting.  Very fascinating.  He wondered if it
would be valuable to compare Lois's blood with Astrid's.  His fingers
flew quickly over the keys, and he pulled up the results of Astrid's
most recent blood test.  Oh, now that was very promising.  That
opened up a whole new avenue for him to explore.

Dr. Klein made rapid notes, his fingers barely keeping up with the
speed of his thoughts.  He worked intently, his gaze never wavering
from his monitor, his fatigue momentarily forgotten.

  From outside, his window blazed with light, the only one lit up in
all of STAR labs.  The security guard shook his head.  What was so
all-fired important, he wondered.  Sometimes he felt that those
scientists really didn't have their priorities straight.  He pitied
their poor families.

***

Clark got out of bed and stretched.  Lois was sleeping soundly still
and probably would for a couple more hours.  She wasn't attuned to
getting up at dawn.  Truth to tell neither was he most mornings, but
for what was probably a very significant, psychological, rooted in
his early childhood reason, he always reverted when he stayed over on
the farm.  Too many mornings spent doing chores, he supposed.

Actually, thinking about it, the early morning had been one of his
favourite times of the day.  Everything seemed so fresh and clean.
The animals would stir and greet him with sleepy grunts before
suddenly snapping awake and demanding their breakfast.  He and his
father had never had much of a chance to talk while they
simultaneously did the chores, but Dad had always taken the time to
check in with him when they were done.  Most mornings, they hadn't
talked about anything too earth shattering, but Clark could remember
a few momentous conversations.  He smiled wryly.  The morning he'd
shared his new 'visual' abilities sprang to mind.

He'd never loved his father more.

Clark had been scared, worried, obsessed.  Was he some genetic
experiment that was doomed to go insane and run amuck?  Was he some
kind of Russian sleeper agent whose personality would be wiped out in
a flash if he heard the proper code word?  Would he then run amuck,
killing everyone that he loved?

Clark shook his head as he pulled on his clothes.  All his boyhood
fears had had similar themes to them.  Running amuck had figured
quite prominently in all of them.

But Dad had taken it all in stride.

He'd been shocked, of course.  He'd kept looking back and forth from
the small fire to Clark and back again.  Once Dad had accepted that
it really had been his scared son who had set the discarded wood
ablaze with his eyes, he had shrugged and overly casually said,
"You'll be pretty handy on our annual camping trip, I reckon."  Clark
had been startled into laughing, and his Dad had grinned and then
pulled him into a tight hug.

Oh, a pretty lengthy conversation had followed, and another one after
they got back to the house and they'd told Mom, but it was that
initial reaction that Clark had remembered all these years.
Accepting.  Tolerant.  Pragmatic.  Above all, loving.

Clark sighed and turned his thoughts to the present.  He listened
carefully to the sounds in the main bedroom.  Marty was still sound
asleep.  Shadow was stirring a little bit.  He carefully floated in
and hoisted the sleepy dog into his arms.  It was a measure of how
used to his presence Shadow was, that he only opened his eyes and
licked Clark on the cheek.

Clark paused for a second, watching his little girl sleep.  She
looked peaceful and relaxed.

Shadow wiggled a bit in his arms and Clark hastily left the bedroom.

He put the dog down when he reached the kitchen and was fairly
confident that any small noises the two of them might make wouldn't
rouse his wife or his daughter.  After quickly setting up the
coffeemaker, he and Shadow emerged into the weak sunshine.  It looked
like it was going to be another beautiful day.

He did the chores by rote, his body going through the motions
automatically.  All the while his mind worked away at what Marty had
said last night.  "I'm sorry," she had said.  Did she blame herself?
He'd read that victims of brutal attacks commonly did.  But even so,
he couldn't understand why.  What in the world could be in her head
that would make her accept the blame?

***

Vicky raced to the door and threw it open before the doorbell sounded
again.  Astrid and Sam were both sleeping in, and she didn't want
them to be awakened if they absolutely didn't have to.

"Hi, Uncle Bernie," she said, brightly.  "Sam and Astrid are both asleep."

"Vicky?  Is it the weekend?  I lost track of my days again."  He
scratched his head, looking puzzled.  "I don't mind waiting for them."

"Come on in, then."  Vicky laughed and kissed him fondly on the
cheek.  "Yes, it is the weekend.  Mom and Dad headed out yesterday
afternoon.  They'll be back tomorrow.  They wanted me to go with
them, but...  well, I find Smallville a bit boring so I'm here
instead."  She led her uncle into the tidy living room.  "Sam and
Astrid don't seem to mind my company."

Dr. Klein flopped down on the couch and grinned up at her.  "They
don't seem to mind mine either, and there's a lot more to object to
with me," he said, jocularly.

Vicky sat down opposite him and giggled.  "I don't know, Uncle
Bernie.  Fifteen-year-old brat or mad scientist.  If I were them, I'd
turn both of us away!"

Bernie laughed heartily.  "Not just a fifteen-year-old brat, but a
cheeky brat, too."

Vicky hastily shushed him, her finger to her lips.

"Oops," he whispered, with a guilty smile.

"Sorry," she whispered, giggling again.  "I guess I was kind of cheeky."

They grinned at each other.

Vicky loved her uncle.  He could be a little hard to understand at
times, but he never talked down to her, and he always treated her
like an adult.  Not even her parents treated her that way.  It was
also so nice to have another person that she could talk to about what
it was like to be part of her unique family.

She didn't have many friends, but that didn't worry her too much.
She went to movies and parties in a group of girls.  Other than that,
she was relatively content to curl up with a good book.  Jon was fun
to pal around with; she liked it when he let her accompany him to his
studio so that she could watch him paint.  Sam and Astrid were mostly
fun, although they hadn't been recently since Astrid got pregnant and
started having so many problems carrying the baby.  Now, all they did
when she came to stay was talk or rent movies.  The big highpoint was
when Astrid let her feel the baby kick.  She had to admit - that was
kind of cool.  Soon, there would be a baby for 'Aunt Vicky' to play
with.  Now that would be REALLY cool!

Vicky had gone to stay for weekends with Marty from time to time.
She'd always enjoyed her older sister's company; at least she had
until that jerk had beaten her up.  It was hard to understand why
Marty was still dragging her butt, though.  That had happened weeks
and weeks ago!

"Can I get you a cup of coffee, Uncle Bernie?" she hastily offered.

He suppressed a yawn.  "No, thanks, honey.  I've been up all night
working at the lab.  I wanted to talk to Sam and Astrid before
heading home to sleep.  Coffee would only keep me awake."

Vicky focused her hearing on Sam and Astrid's bedroom.  "They're
still sleeping.  Do you want me to wake them?"

"No, it's okay.  Astrid needs her sleep."

Vicky nodded.  "And Sam didn't get in until about five this morning."

At the look of inquiry on her uncle's face, she hastily added, "He
had to evacuate a small town in the Andes.  Got the last person out,
just as the mudslide hit."

"Good for him!"

Dr. Klein lay back and closed his eyes to Vicky's dismay.  She had a
couple of questions that she wanted to ask him.

Before he could doze off, Vicky quickly said, "Um, Uncle Bernie?"

His eyes slowly opened, and he sat up a little straighter.  "Yes, honey?"

"Is Marty going to be okay?  Mom and Dad don't tell me anything...  I
know she got beat up and everything, but that was a while ago, and
she never smiles or laughs or talks about anything, and I'm really
worried about her, and I just don't know what to do," Vicky finished
in a rush.

"She's going to be fine, Vicky, but it takes time to recover from
this kind of thing."  He held up his hand to forestall her as she
opened her mouth to say more.  "Physically, she's fine, and she was
fine within a couple of days of the attack.  Psychologically, it was
a huge shock to her, and that's what's taking so long."

"Oh."  Vicky mulled that over for a moment.  "Okay, then.  I'm glad
that she'll be all right eventually," she said, dismissing Marty's
emotional anguish now that she knew that her sister would get better.
"Um, I do have another question if you don't mind."  Her tone made it
very clear that she planned on asking her question even if her uncle
did mind.

Luckily, Dr. Klein didn't mind, always making a point of being
accessible to his honorary nieces and nephews.  "Go ahead,
sweetheart."

Vicky paused, her forehead wrinkling as she struggled to gather her
thoughts.  "Okay.  I'm wondering what it is about Kryptonite that
actually can hurt us."

Dr. Klein hid another yawn in his hand.  "Kryptonite emits an unusual
radiation.  It has no effect on humans, but has an extremely toxic
effect on Kryptonians - or part Kryptonians," he added with a weary
smile.  "It has a similar effect on you and your family as Uranium or
Plutonium would have on me."

"But there are Geiger Counters available to warn you about those.
Why can't we have a Geiger Counter that's tuned to Kryptonite?"

Dr. Klein sat up a little straighter.  "A Geiger Counter tuned to
Kryptonite..."  He blinked rapidly as he looked blankly at Vicky.  "A
Geiger Counter... Tuned to Kryptonite... I could modify...  If I
changed the settings..."  He shook his head before focusing his
attention on his niece.  "Out of the mouths of babes..." he muttered.

"Don't call me a babe," she warned, mock-seriously, waggling her finger at him.

"No, I didn't mean..." he started to protest until he caught sight of
her wicked grin.  He grinned back at her, a look of wonder on his
face.

"So it would work, Uncle Bernie?"

"Yes, it would," he said, enthusiastically.  "I can't believe that I
never thought of it.  Oh, there are certain things that might block
the radiation, things that might prevent it from showing up on the
Geiger Counter, but I should be able to think of a way around that."
He sprang to his feet and headed for the door.

"Where are you going?  Aren't you going to wait for Sam and Astrid?"
Vicky hurried after him.

"No.  My news can wait.  I have to go to the lab.  I have to run some
tests," he replied, excitedly.

"But you're tired," she protested.

"Not anymore!" he exclaimed as he scurried out the door.

"Bye, Uncle Bernie," she called after him.

A jaunty wave of his hand was the only reply.

Vicky slowly closed the door and leaned against it.  A smug smile
spread over her face.  It looked like she'd asked the right question.

She heard faint stirrings in Sam and Astrid's bedroom.  Good!  She
could hardly wait to tell them all about this.

***

Yawning mightily, Lois stumbled to the kitchen following the aroma of
freshly brewed coffee.  She stopped dead when she saw her daughter
sitting at the table, sipping from her mug.

"Good morning," she forced herself to say calmly as she moved to the
counter to prepare her own.

"Morning, Mom," Marty said, putting her mug down quickly.  She sat up
straight, her eyes never leaving Lois as she moved about the kitchen.

"Did you sleep well?"

"Uh huh.  Did you and Dad?"

"Uh huh.  Speaking of which, where is your father?"

Marty nodded towards the window.  "Out there helping Ben with the
horses.  I usually do, but Dad offered.  I could tell that he wanted
to get a good look at them, so I took him up on it."

Lois sat down across from Marty.  "You'll have to introduce me to
them properly later."

Marty smiled at Lois, a quick, almost frightened smile.  "I will.
You'll like them.  They're very sweet."

'Sweet,' Lois thought.  'Uh huh.  They're big, they eat hay and
grass, they've got very large teeth, and they create huge piles of
manure.  Yeah, right, they're sweet.'  She smiled encouragingly back
at her daughter.  "Yes, I'm sure that they are."

They lapsed into silence.  Over the rim of her mug as she sipped her
coffee, Lois studied her daughter who kept her face turned away from
her Mom.  By turns, Marty looked scared, defiant, sad, confused and
angry.  The overall impression Lois got was that, emotionally, her
daughter was running on empty.

Clark had said that Marty didn't feel able to talk about the attack
yet, but maybe there was something else that they could talk about.
Lois thought for a long moment.  "Honey," she said, causing Marty to
jump.  "Your Dad said that you don't want us to push you to talk
about... well, you know.  But that doesn't mean that we can't talk
about other things."

"Like what?"  Marty asked, her voice audibly shaking.

"Like the fact that you're not the only woman in the world who's ever
been fooled by a man."

"You wouldn't have been!" Marty spat out, defiant angry protest
written all over her face.

Lois smiled, sardonically.  "You'd think so, wouldn't you?"

Her daughter sat up straight, her face shocked.  "You mean you were!"

"Oh, yeah."  Lois grimaced.  "I've never really talked about it - oh,
your Dad knows the basics - but I didn't go into details.  And I
haven't thought about it in years, but once upon a time, I thought...
No, I knew that I was in love."  Lois glanced at Marty to discover
that she had succeeded in fully engaging her daughter's attention.
"This was well before I ever met your father," she added as a look of
distaste spread over Marty's face.

"What happened?" Marty asked, leaning forward towards her mother.

"I was young," Lois said.  "New at the Planet.  Your Uncle Perry had
made it very clear that he'd taken a chance by hiring me, and that he
eventually expected great things from me.  I thought he meant
'immediately' and I went to work each day in a state of complete and
total panic.  I didn't know what I was doing.

"Working for the Planet was a far cry from working for a student
newspaper.  And every day, it seemed like I was tripping over
something else that hadn't been covered in my journalism classes."
She took a sip of coffee, met her daughter's eyes and grinned.  "In
other words, I was a complete and total idiot.  I acted like I knew
everything while inside I was screaming for help.  I pretended to be
more confident than I really was.  No wonder people called me 'Mad
Dog Lane.'  I always told people that it was because I had a
reputation for really sinking my teeth in a story and not letting go,
but the truth of the matter is, everyone called me that because
they'd scatter whenever I came into the room, and they all had this
almost uncontrollable urge to shoot me!"

Marty giggled, her eyes dancing.

"So, there I was, muddling through my days, treating every story like
it was a Pulitzer Prize winning story - did I ever tell you that in
my first three months on the job, I was banned from three different
cat shows? - all the while, panicking inside.  In other words, I was
completely and totally vulnerable.  And then it happened."

"What?  What happened?"

Lois grimaced.  "Claude.  Claude happened."  She glanced up at her
daughter briefly, before continuing.  "He was French.  Got
transferred in from the overseas desk about five months after I'd
started at the Planet."  Lois thought back to her first impression of
him, a rueful smile on her face.  "Tall, good-looking, sophisticated,
charming, and with this incredibly sexy accent.  I took one look at
him and just melted into a puddle."

Marty shifted in her chair.  "I don't believe it.  Not my Mom."

Lois grinned at her.  "But I wasn't your Mom then.  I was barely
twenty-one.  In some ways, my life was incredibly sheltered.  I had
never had much of a social life even when I was in College.  I'd been
so focused on my studies I hadn't dated much.  I'd dated casually,
but I tended to run the other way whenever anyone expressed a serious
interest in me.  I can thank your Grandma and Grandpa Lane for that.
I had their example of 'How to Ruin Your Life in Ten Easy Steps' in
front of me all the time. So, in other words, I had no frame of
reference when this incredibly gorgeous man walked into my life."

"What happened?"

Lois shook her head before looking Marty in the eye.  "Basically he
seduced me.  He asked me out, he fussed over me, he treated me like a
princess.  For the first time in my life, I felt special.  I mean I
must have been desirable if I had this gorgeous, fantastic guy
drooling over me, right?  It was a whole different world from having
pimply-faced kids asking me to go steady.  I fell for him hook, line
and sinker."

"You said that he fooled you."

"Oh, yeah, he did.  By the time he was done with me, I'd had my eyes
opened to the world and the creeps in it."  Lois glanced at Marty, a
little worried as to how she'd take this next revelation, but
continued anyway.  It was more important that Marty see that she
wasn't alone, than it was for Lois to retain her dignity in front of
her child.  "So, anyway, when I said he'd seduced me, I meant that
literally.  After we'd dated for a couple of weeks, he asked me to,
uh, invite him into my bed.  I was nervous - I'd never been with a
man - but I convinced myself that it was okay because I loved him."
Lois paused and took a deep breath.  She blew it out slowly before
continuing, "So I did."

"You mean Dad wasn't your..."

"My first?  No.  I wish he had been, but he wasn't."

"Then what?"

"Okay, then he, uh, joined me in bed, we finally went to sleep and
when I woke up in the morning he was gone.  Not only was he gone, but
all my notes on a major breaking story were gone, too.  He won a
Kerth for that story!" Lois exclaimed, the last sentence bursting out
of her mouth.

"Oh no!"  Marty's mouth hung open.

Lois leaned forward and rested her hand on Marty's arm.  "I told you
this so you'd know that anyone can be tricked.  Honey, Stride was
obviously a consummate actor.  He was manipulative and cunning.  I
don't doubt that you really loved what you saw.  Unfortunately, what
you saw wasn't real.  Just like what I loved about Claude wasn't real
either."

Marty looked at her, her eyes troubled.  "So what's the solution?
How do you find out what's real or not?"

"Take your time," Lois said, firmly.  "Get to know people for who
they really are.  That's what I did with your father.  We were best
friends long before we were lovers.  We didn't rush into anything,
and I'm glad.  Anyone can be a good actor for a day or two, but
eventually, if it's just an act, over time you'll be able to tell."

"You've really given me a lot to think about, Mom.  Thanks."

"You're welcome, sweetheart.  I'm glad.  That's really all your Dad
and I want to do, you know.  We both want to help.  And I'm really
sorry about last night.  We won't push like that anymore.  It's just
that we wanted you to know that we're there for you.  Okay?"  Lois's
voice broke on the last word.

Marty smiled, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.  "Okay."  With a
rush, she moved to her Mom's side and pulled her into a fierce
embrace.  "Thanks," she whispered in Lois's ear.

***

The rest of the weekend was quiet.  Ben came over twice a day to look
after the horses, but didn't stay long as he got a lot of emergency
calls over the weekend and was chronically short on sleep.

Marty and her parents took lots of walks and played cards in the
evening.  Mostly what Marty did was think.

She thought about Stride and how he had swept her off her feet.
She'd been too trusting, too vulnerable.  She'd thought she'd been in
love.  What was there about him that had made her feel that way so
quickly?

He was gorgeous, Marty had to admit.  Never mind that his exterior
hid an ugliness of soul beyond compare, he'd been incredibly
attractive.  But she knew now that someone like Ben, who was not
considered good-looking, actually had more beauty inside than someone
like Stride could ever have.

Stride had played upon every one of Marty's weaknesses, which was
another very bitter point.  He'd made her feel desirable.  He'd made
her feel special.  Just like Claude had made her mother feel.

And then he'd used her.  Just like Claude had used her mother.

She and her mother had both been pawns.  In their turn, they'd each
been a means to an end.  Oh, both men had taken their pleasure from
the situation, Marty thought bitterly, but they'd both had another
more important goal in mind.

A vagrant thought flew into Marty's head.  Her mother had been abused
- oh, not as violently as Marty had been - but she must have been
left with issues about sex and men.  And yet, her Mom had fallen in
love with her father.  Marty knew that they had a very sensual and
loving physical relationship.  So her mom must have been able to deal
with her fears.  Did that mean that there was a possibility that
Marty might be able to as well?  She hoped so because right now the
thought of a man touching her in any way remotely sexual was enough
to turn her stomach.  Even when her father had touched her in
comfort, she had flinched momentarily.

Marty didn't want to be left with a lingering fear of physical
intimacy.  She had always dreamed of having the type of loving
relationship her parents did.  She wanted marriage.  She wanted
children.  She wanted her husband to be her best friend in the whole
world.  She'd dreamed of someday passing this farm on to one of her
children who would love it as much as she did.

But what man would want her?  How could anyone respect a person who
had been tricked so thoroughly?  Who could ever trust her when she'd
been a participant in her own victimisation?  Who would be patient
enough to wait while she sorted through her fears?  No one, she told
herself bleakly.  And yet...  Her father had been there for her
mother.  He'd been her friend, her partner at work, and he'd waited
until her mother felt able to give herself to him body and soul.

Her father was a special man.  Marty didn't hold out too much hope
that she'd ever find anyone who could measure up to him.  He had a
gentleness to him that was unexpected.  He treated the weak with
respect and dignity.  When it came to his superhero duties, he
discharged them with fairness and equity no matter how unpleasant
they might be.  For a second, an image of Ben scraping the smelly pus
out of Diamond's infected hooves came to her mind, but she pushed it
away continuing to focus on her father.  Her Dad was special.

Thinking about her father made Marty's thoughts turn to the
uncomfortable Shadow situation.  Her father hadn't pushed her, but
Marty knew that questions were being asked in the media as to why
Shadow had only done one rescue and then had vanished from the scene.
She supposed that she should don her costume once more and take to
the skies, but it held no appeal for her.  She'd suffered from too
much violence up close and personal to want to expose herself to
more.  And, to be blunt, Marty didn't trust herself.  She didn't feel
that she could restrict herself to the use of appropriate amounts of
force if she were to be confronted with any kind of assault or abuse
situation.  What kind of role could Shadow possibly have in society
if she didn't feel competent to deal with violence?

Marty was fully aware that she needed to make a decision soon about
Shadow, but she just wasn't ready.  Which reminded her.  She needed
to thank Maria Ramirez for her supportive role during the whole
thing, but she didn't want to see the woman.  She was afraid that
just looking at Maria would bring back all those feelings of pain and
terror that she just wanted to forget, but Dad had said that Maria
had been asking for her - that she was worried about her.  She'd
force herself to see the woman once, and then, courtesy satisfied,
she'd be able to forget about her.

Marty's thoughts went round and round until by the time the weekend
was over, she'd analysed her circumstances to death.  But she felt a
little better, a little more able to cope with life - as long as it
didn't throw any more curve balls at her.  Please God - no more curve
balls!

***

Sunday evening, Clark, with Lois cradled in his arms, flew home to
Metropolis in a much happier mood than he'd been in when they'd left
Friday afternoon.  Marty was doing so much better than they'd
expected, although she still hadn't been able to bring herself to
open up to them.  Even so, there wasn't this overwhelming sense
hanging over them of something evil hidden in the shadows.  No, even
though Marty couldn't talk about it, the full extent of what Stride's
attack on her had entailed was now revealed in the light.

Marty had agreed to consider going to a Rape Crisis Centre.  As Lois
had pointed out, she could fly anywhere in the world and go to one
anonymously.  Just the fact that Marty had agreed to consider this
was grounds for cautious optimism.

Clark understood how Marty might feel uncomfortable talking to her
parents about the details of Stride's attack.  How many times had he
written editorials about sexual abuse espousing that the central
issue that needed to be addressed was violence and not sex?  And how
many times had he interviewed victims of this type of abuse who
stated that it was entirely about sex?  Sex that had been used to
hurt, to dominate, to diminish, and to humiliate.  No, he understood
exactly why Marty found this so difficult to face and so hard to talk
about, especially with her parents.

Stride had attacked not only her body, but also her deepest sense of
self.  He had invaded her being, both physically and emotionally.  It
was going to take a lot of hard work before Marty was free of him.
Clark wondered if she ever actually would be completely free.  He
hoped so.

He wanted his daughter to have what he and her mother had.  She
deserved happiness.  She deserved a family of her own, separate from
her parents and her siblings.  She deserved children.  He was sure
that she'd be a great mother.

Even though she had none of that at the moment, she was fortunate.
She had a loyal friend in Ben.  He was good for Marty.  Clark was
very grateful that Ben could lift her spirits the way that he had.

Ben was a good man.  He was gentle but with a good solid core to him.
Clark had always liked the man, but had been newly impressed by his
patience and sensitivity in dealing with Shadow and the horses.  He
treated the animals with a great deal of dignity.  Ben was a good
friend to Marty.  She was lucky to have him in her life.

As a matter of course, Clark x-rayed his home as he approached.  "We
have company," he announced to his wife.

"Who?"

"Vicky's home from Sam and Astrid's.  Bernie and Jimmy are there,
too.  They ordered in pizza.  Looks like they saved us one."

Lois bristled.  "I won't be happy if there are mushrooms on ours.
Vicky knows how much I hate mushrooms!"

Clark quickly scanned the boxes.  "No worries, honey.  There's an
untouched mushroom-free pizza staying warm in the oven."

"Okay, that's all right, then," Lois said, mollified.

Much later, after many slices of pizza, the adults got up from the
table, ready to move into the living room.  To her disgust, Vicky was
deputized to clean up the kitchen.

"When you're done with the dishes, then go do something," Lois
instructed her daughter.

"Like what?"

"Oh, I don't know.  Do your homework or something."

"Mom!  It's summer.  I don't have any homework.  Besides, I think I
know what Uncle Bernie wants to talk to you about.  Can't I listen,
too?"

Lois looked at Bernie, her one eyebrow raised in inquiry.  He nodded
before heading into the living room.  "Okay," she said.  "But dishes
first."

Vicky grinned and sprang into action.  Not as fast as her siblings or
her father, she still managed to have the kitchen cleaned up in about
thirty seconds.

Lois laughed.

"What's so funny?" Vicky asked.

"When I think of how many times I could have used that kind of speed
when I was a kid..."  Lois ruffled her daughter's hair affectionately
and grinned at her.

Vicky giggled and gave her mother a quick hug.  She was about to
follow her father and her two uncles into the living room when Lois
put her hand on Vicky's arm, stopping her.

"Honey, are you okay with everything?"

"With what, Mom?"

"Your Dad and I have been pretty busy with Marty lately.  We've been
spending a lot of time with her, and you've been shuttled off to your
brother's every weekend.  I feel guilty."

"It's okay, Mom," Vicky assured her.  "I understand.  Marty's in
pretty rough shape right now, and she needs you.  Things will calm
down again.  Sam and Astrid have been pretty good to hang with,
anyway.  I'm comfortable there.  Uncle Jimmy's great, too.  He took
me to the Fudge Castle last weekend.  He said something about going
to a movie next weekend."

"You're sure you're okay?  That you don't need me?"

"I'm sure." Vicky nodded emphatically.  "And of course, I need you.
We all do.  But sometimes one of us needs you more than the rest.
Right now, it's Marty's turn."

Lois smiled.  "You're a pretty smart kid!"

"I know," Vicky said, grinning.

"Pretty cheeky, too!"

"I've been told that before."  She winked at her mother and pushed
past her into the living room.  Lois shook her head and followed her
daughter.

Bernie paced back and forth in front of the couch.  Vicky plunked
herself down on the floor in front of her father, and Jimmy and Clark
shifted over to make room for Lois to sit down beside her husband.

"Okay," Bernie said, clearing his throat, "I've got some preliminary
results for you from my testing."

"Good," Clark muttered in an aside to the others.  "I'd hate to pee
in a cup for nothing!"

Choking back chortles, the four of them waited for Bernie to
continue.  He grinned, having overheard Clark's comment, but kept
talking, obviously preferring to ignore his friend.

"Jimmy, there is a real and valid reason for you to still look so
young.  When Clark shared his life force with you, he also shared
some of the benefits of being Kryptonian with you.  You really are
going to live longer than the norm, and you will age a lot slower
than a normal person would.  You'll probably make at least 110,
possibly more."

Lois glanced over to see the expression on her friend's face congeal.
This didn't look to be welcome news.  She remembered her conversation
with him from a few months before when he had confessed how much he
dreaded the prospect of watching Lee grow up in front of him, an
untouchable child instead of the vibrant woman that he had known in
the past.

"Clark, you sacrificed some of your longevity for your friend,"
Bernie continued.  "So, you have given up a portion of your lifespan.
Judging from tests that I ran in the past on you, before the whole
incident happened, I'd say you cut your lifespan by a quarter at
least.  Originally, I really do believe that barring accidents or
other unforeseen circumstances, you could reasonably expect to live
to be about 175.  Now, however, I expect you to make, oh, around 130."

Lois gasped and squeezed Clark's hand a little tighter as she eyed
him warily.  He looked upset as he returned the gentle pressure of
her hand on his.

Seeing the distress on Clark's face, Dr. Klein held up his hand to
hush him.  "I know what you're going to say.  You don't want to live
longer than Lois, am I right?"

"Yes," Clark answered with a loving glance at his wife.  She held his
hand lightly in her own and gently ran her thumb over its back in
response.

"Not to worry, Clark.  I ran more tests on Lois and Astrid, too, and
discovered something really remarkable.  Lois and Astrid are also
aging at a slower rate."

"What?" Lois exclaimed, not sure how she felt about this new
development.  "But Clark didn't share any of his life force with me,
so what gives?"

Bernie smiled.  "It's his aura, Lois.  And Sam's aura.  We've always
known that Clark can extend his aura to protect you when you're
flying.  It looks like it's even more efficient at protecting you
then we thought.  Right now, barring any unforeseen circumstances or
accidents, I think that you, too, could have a similar lifespan to
Clark."

The four adults fell silent.  Clark wrapped his arms around Lois and
laid his head against hers as they sat in the pensive quiet.

"Hey, Mom!" Vicky piped up, brightly.

"What, honey?"

"You know that necklace of yours that I like so much?"

"Uh huh."

"Well," Vicky said with a grin.  "I think you should give it to me
now.  If I have to wait until you're dead, I'll be too old to wear
it!"

The adults burst into laughter.

"Vicky, has anyone ever told you that you're a cheeky brat?" Jimmy
asked as he wiped mirthful tears from his eyes.

Bernie chuckled.  "I did just the other day, Jimmy."  He cleared his
throat.  "Which brings us to the second thing I wanted to talk about.
It's big."

"What is it?" Clark asked, seriously, responding to the solemn
expression that had come over Dr. Klein's face.

"It was your daughter's idea," Bernie said.  "She can be pretty smart
at times."

"Why, thank you, kind sir," Vicky replied, as she got up and
mock-curtsied in response.

Before she could sit back down, Bernie extended his hand to his
honorary niece, handing her his keys.  "Would you go and get it for
me?  It's in the trunk of my car."

"Sure."  Vicky zipped over to the door, opened it and then proceeded
at normal speed down the steps to the driveway.

Bernie watched her go with a serious expression on his face.  "That
daughter of yours gave me an idea that should prevent what happened
to Marty from ever happening to anyone else."

"What?"  Lois and Clark looked at each other blankly before turning
as one to their friend.  Jimmy, too, leaned forward, eager to hear
more.

As Vicky returned to the room, carrying an unwieldy piece of
machinery, Bernie started to talk.  And talk.  And talk some more.
Once Lois, Clark and Jimmy understood the possibilities behind the
Kryptonite Geiger Counters, they were all set to try them out that
night.  It was with a great deal of reluctance that they agreed to
defer the testing.

"It's going to take a long time to check everywhere in the world,
though, isn't it?" Lois asked, eyeing the machine.

"Not as long as you might think," Bernie replied.  "After I'm sure
that the prototype is as efficient and effective as it can be, I'll
make four more.  We'll have to make up a search grid.  Clark and the
kids should be able to pinpoint all the Kryptonite locations fairly
quickly, but then will have to wait while those of us who aren't
super-powered retrieve it for disposal - just like you had to wait
when I cleaned up that Smallville construction site a few months
ago.  This isn't perfect; we won't be able to find out if criminals have
stockpiled it in lead-lined safes, but it's a start."

Clark stood up suddenly, strode over to his startled friend and
firmly grasped his shoulders.  "Thank you, Bernie.  And thank you,
Vicky," he said as he moved to her side and pulled her into a tight
embrace.  "I am so sick of Kryptonite always turning up at the
absolute worst time...  Like when I was targeted by Trask..."

"Or Diana Stride," Jimmy pointed out.

"Or Luthor," Dr. Klein added.

Lois flinched.  "Or when Marty literally stumbled over the stuff in
front of Stride's son..."

Clark turned back to Dr. Klein.  "And now you're telling me that this
kind of accident won't happen anymore.  You're telling me that
there's a chance that no one's going to hurt any of my children ever
again...  I can't even begin to tell you how I feel, Bernie."

"How we feel," Lois corrected him as she moved closer, too.  "You've
been a good friend to us for many years, but this...  This is..."
Lois wiped a tear from her eye.

Dr. Klein roughly cleared his throat.  "I wish we'd thought of it
before.  I wish Marty hadn't had to go through what she did."  He,
too, wiped a tear away.

Vicky moved away from the emotional adults to sit beside her Uncle
Jimmy.  Not paying any attention to his long face, she muttered,
"Adults," in a disgusted tone of voice.  "I just don't understand
them.  This is a good thing, and look at them!  They're all just
about bawling their eyes out."

"You'll understand someday," Jimmy said, "when you're older."

Vicky groaned.  "Ack!  You sound just like them.  Uncle Jimmy, you've
gone over to the dark side!"

Startled into laughter, he grinned at her and winked.  "So will you
one day," he replied.

"Not me," Vicky responded irrepressibly.  "I'm not ever going to get
old like you guys."

Clark looked up in shock.  "What did you just say?  What did you say,
young lady?  Old!  Did you just call us old?"  He pounced on her in a
flash.  "I'll show you who's old."  His hands moved in a blur on her
back.

"Dad, no!" Vicky squealed.  "That tickles!"

"I know!" he exclaimed, grinning.  "It's called revenge."

"I give!  I give!  Uncle!" Vicky yelped.

"You called?" Bernie asked, a completely deadpan expression on his face.

Clark burst out laughing and stopped tickling his daughter.

Vicky caught her breath and surveyed the adults who were strewn
around the living room in various stages of hilarity.  "Did I say
'old'?" she asked plaintively.  "I should have said sadistic!"  She
turned on her heel.  "I'm going to my room," she said stiffly.  "Good
night."

The adults exchanged amused glances at the air of insulted dignity
that Vicky had put on.  After a moment, their conversation picked up
once more as they continued to discuss all the ramifications of the
information they'd received.

***

Maria Ramirez paced around her small apartment wondering what she
should do.  She wanted to call Marty Kent and see if she were okay,
but she was very much afraid that Marty would not want to hear the
voice of someone who had been a witness to the degrading attack she
had suffered.  Maria had been close to calling a couple of times, but
her fear had always held her back.

But Clark had said that he thought it was a good idea for her to
call.  She wanted to call.  Maria sensed that Marty Kent was someone
she could really like and be friends with, if Marty were willing,
that is.

And she really did want to be there for Marty.  Okay, yes, they
weren't friends yet, but whom did Marty have to talk to besides her
family?  It would be good for her to have another woman to open up
to, whom she didn't have to hide anything from.  Maria didn't want to
ever forget that it was because of Marty that she had her big break
in journalism.  And she was grateful to Marty's father for helping
her to maintain her new reputation as a go-getter reporter with great
sources.  She wanted to pay Marty and her family back for their help.
She needed to.

Maria's hand hovered over the phone as she tried to marshal the
courage to pick it up.  She took a deep breath, tucked the receiver
under her chin, and dialled, only to hear it ring shrilly on the
other end.  An answering machine clicked on.  Maria sighed and
replaced the receiver in its cradle without leaving a message.

She spun around when she heard a light tapping at her open window.
Maria was shocked to see the figure of Marty Kent hovering there.
Marty was completely dressed in black spandex, a hood covering her
hair.

"Hi."

"Hi," Maria said, stiffly.

"May I come in?"

She nodded.

Marty clambered through the window and stood awkwardly just inside.
She looked poised for flight.

"So..." a stunned Maria said.  There was silence for a long awkward
moment.  "Um, what can I do for you?"

Marty jumped.  "Oh, yes, I, uh, wanted to thank you.  I should have
done it before, but I just couldn't... I wanted to but... Thank you
for protecting my family.  I appreciate it.  They appreciate it.  Not
many reporters would have done that."

"You're welcome.  I'm glad that I could help," Maria answered, formally.

"Uh, okay, then, I guess I'll say goodbye..." Marty turned to the window.

"No!" Maria exclaimed, hastily, one hand outstretched.  "I mean you
can if you want to, but...  I just wanted to say... Um..."

"What?"

"Is there anything I can do?" Maria blurted out.  "Do you need
someone to talk to?  I really want to help if I can.  I feel so bad
about what happened."

"It's okay," Marty said, quietly, her hands resting on the window
frame.  She cleared her throat and repeated it a little louder this
time.  "It's okay.  I...  I appreciate the offer.  I really do,
but..."

"It was awful being there - seeing what he did to you," Maria said,
interrupting.  "I thought he was going to kill you right in front of
me.  He was crazy.  Absolutely nuts.  I could see it in his eyes."
She stared off into space as she talked, reliving the whole thing in
her mind.

Marty slowly turned to face Maria.  "I thought he was going to kill
me, too," she confessed.  "I was more worried about my parents,
though.  He hated my father so much.  I didn't know it was possible
for one person to hate another that much."

"I thought he was more creepy when he talked about his mother.  He
loved her so much, and she's such a total psychopath.  How could he
not see that?"

"I know," Marty agreed, nodding her head.  "He believed everything
that she'd told him over the years and refused to listen to anything
Dad or Mom had to say about it."

"You know, your mother thought he was going to kill you, too," Maria
said.  "I could see it in her face, and hear it in her voice when she
told him to leave you alone.  She didn't even hesitate, Marty.  She
blurted out exactly what he wanted to hear.  She would have done
anything to get him to leave you alone.  I would have, too," Maria
added in a soft voice.

"Thank you."  Marty roughly cleared her throat.

"I'll never forget what you did for me," Maria said earnestly.  "If
it weren't for you, I'd still be in Puerto Rico fighting with the
other reporters for my chance at a story.  I wouldn't be in
Metropolis making a name for myself.  Thank you."

Marty looked down at the floor.  "I...  It's okay.  I just thought
that you seemed like a decent person, and, well, I wanted you to have
the story about... Shadow.  I didn't want those other sleazoids to
benefit from my debut."

Maria giggled at the description of her former colleagues who were
still languishing in Puerto Rico.  "Did you see the look on their
faces as you took off with me in tow?"

Marty laughed.

"Why don't you come all the way in and sit down?" the young reporter suggested.

Marty nodded and sat down on the small couch beside Maria.

The two women talked for a long time.  They talked about the first
time they had met.  They talked about Maria's career and the super
help that it had received from time to time, and how grateful she was
for that help.  They talked about Paul Stride and how he tried to
justify his attack on Marty.

She didn't share all the details of the attack she'd suffered, but
Marty did find herself talking a little bit about what it had been
like to be at a madman's mercy.  She shared with Maria her fear and
her hopelessness, her panic when her parents had arrived and when she
realised that they were prisoners, too.  She talked about her horror
at the sound of the shot that had so grievously injured Shadow -
almost killing him.  She didn't talk about what Stride did to her;
instead, she talked about how he had made her feel.

  From there, they moved on to compare life experiences.  Marty
reminisced about growing up in a 'super' family.  She told about how
she'd discovered her father moonlighted as Superman and her reaction
to her discovery.  Maria giggled when she heard that Marty's first
reaction had been that it was really 'cool' that her Dad was a